Hazard
by Down By The River
Summary: What happened to Mercedes Jones?
1. Whatever Happened to Mercedes Jones?

Wow, so this is something completely different to anything I've ever done before (which isn't hard because I'm a new writer!) and eventually it'll grow into a multi-chapter fic.

Anyway, this is inspired by the song _Hazard_ by Richard Marx. It's completely AU and I tried to do something a little different with it. I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters, nor do I own Hazard by Richard Marx

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><p>People looked at him differently now. They had always regarded him warily, he was relatively new to town, he spoke with an accent and his tendency to break into random impressions had him labeled as a bit of a weird kid. His dyslexia and the fact that he'd become homeless in his junior year of high school certainly hadn't helped any either. People had treated him like he was a charity case, or like homelessness was a disease that could be caught. Not Mercedes, though. She'd seen him and made the effort to get to know <em>him, <em>the real Sam Evans. Mercy didn't care that he didn't have any money, she was content to just spend time with him. They'd often hang out at the park or take long walks down by the river together, just talking and discussing their lives. Sam grew to cherish those hours spent with Mercy, far more than he could ever bring himself to tell her. She'd become his best friend in such a short time, and he hadn't wanted to risk ruining what they had by admitting how much she meant to him. So Sam had kept quiet.

He knew that Mercedes pretended not to hear the things people said about them, about _him_. He could always tell when someone had said something to her before one of their walks, she would never tell him directly, but he would be able to feel the defensiveness in the way she carried herself, like she was daring anyone to say anything else against him. Sometimes Sam would wish that he was man enough to let Mercedes go, to free her from the derision that her association with him caused. But no matter how much he thought about it, Sam couldn't force himself to give up the girl he cared so much about. It was selfish of him, he knew, but there it was. Mercy had made him feel special rather than weird, she'd made him feel wonderful and alive and absolutely perfect as he was.

And then she had disappeared.

It had been a day like any other. Mercedes had come by the motel where Sam was staying with his family and they'd walked together to the riverbank. The sun was setting over the water and Sam had pointed out how beautiful the colours had looked reflecting off the water. Mercedes had smiled and said that she often thought that sunsets were like God's watercolour paintings. They'd stopped for a while and watched the sun go down as they leaned across the steel railings that separated them from the still waters of the river below.

Sam had thought about telling her then, of admitting just how much he cared for her as the fading stretches of sunlight dyed her hair a dark purple and made her cheeks blush pink. She was laughing at something he'd said and for a moment Sam wondered what it would be like to be _with _her, to have her as his girlfriend, to be able to take her hand as they walked and put his arm around her when they walked. But then the sun had finally sunk over the horizon and the streetlights had flickered on, and the moment had been lost.

Now Sam wasn't sure if he'd ever get to tell her, and he unconsciously eased a hand over his heart as he tried to fight the familiar pain of _not knowing. _He'd gone over that night so many times in his head, replayed every second of conversation he could remember trying to find some clue as to what might have happened.

Mercedes had seemed distracted, he remembered that much, there had been a few times when she'd been so lost in her own thoughts that she'd missed whole chunks of conversation and had had to ask him to repeat what he'd said. She'd had a weird look in her eyes too, Sam recalled, it had been… odd. She'd looked _haunted_.

Sam wished that he could go back and ask her what was wrong, but he'd figured she'd tell him when she was ready and he hadn't wanted to push her. He'd finally left her at around 10 o'clock that night, after begging her to let him walk her home. Mercedes had laughed it off, saying that she didn't need a big strong man to protect her, and that she wanted to stay out a little longer anyway. She'd said she had some things to think about and Sam had left it at that, although he really hadn't been happy about it. Leaving a girl alone at night just didn't sit well with him, but he'd had to rush home to take care of his younger siblings and couldn't afford to spend the time arguing. His brother and sister would have been asleep by then, but his parents had night shifts and none of them wanted to leave the kids alone. Besides that Mercedes had refused to be swayed, so he'd left her bathed in the light from a nearby streetlamp leaning into the railing as she stared down into the water. He'd raised a hand in farewell and she'd thrown him a mock salute in return, and that had been the last time he'd seen her.

The next day he'd waited patiently for Mercedes to show up at his motel, but she never had. Sam had even walked down to the payphone on the corner to try calling her cell, but when he'd finally got through it had gone straight to voicemail. Sam had finally admitted that he was worried enough to borrow the family car and drive over to Mercy's house to check on her. He still remembered the feeling of dread in his stomach as he'd climbed the steps to Mercy's apartment. He'd stumbled over his words a little when Mercedes' roommate had opened the door. Sam didn't think the Latina liked him very much at the best of times, but she'd been extra snippy with him that day.

'Hi Santana,' he remembered saying, 'sorry to bother you, I just wanted to see if Mercedes was ok, she's not answering her cell and she was supposed to meet me tonight but she didn't show…'

Sam had trailed off, not knowing what else to say as Santana had fixed him with an accusing glare.

'I don't know where the hell she is.' The girl had explained, crossing her arms across her chest in a way that was probably meant to look aggressive, but actually betrayed the young woman's obvious concern.

'She didn't come home last night.' Santana continued, 'I actually found myself hoping that she'd hooked up with you or something.' Her shoulders tensed as she hugged her arms closer to herself, 'I couldn't get through to her either.'

The protective instincts in Sam made him want to reach out and comfort his best friends roommate, but something told him that Santana wouldn't appreciate it. This was a girl who prided herself on being tough, even if in that moment she appeared far from it.

'I called the police,' Santana announced after a while, 'but they said they can't do anything until she's been gone 24 hours. What kind of bull crap is that?' Santana's ponytail bobbed angrily as the girl shook her head. 'As far as I know, no one's even seen her since last night.' The brunette narrowed her eyes as she regarded Sam again, 'Did you do something to her?'

Sam could still feel the stab of shock in his gut even though he was just reliving the memory. Santana had been the first person to look at him like that, with suspicion, like maybe he'd done something to Mercedes, maybe he was the reason she'd disappeared. Sam didn't know how to say that he could never hurt Mercy, that he would never _want_ to. It felt wrong to him to tell everyone else about how much you loved a girl before you told the girl herself. Sam didn't even consider the fact that people might truly believe he'd done something to hurt Mercy until he was sitting in the police station.

Sam had been quick to assure Santana that he had nothing to do with Mercedes' apparent disappearance, even pointing out that he'd hardly come looking for her if he knew what had happened. Santana had looked vaguely appeased, but not convinced. Sam hadn't taken it too seriously then because he'd truly expected Mercedes to walk through the door at any minute. He'd even been preparing his '_We were all worried sick!_' speech, but when Sam still hadn't heard from her by the following morning he'd gone down to the police station himself only to find that Santana had already filed a missing person's report.

He hadn't realized he was a suspect until the police had led him into a separate room with a one-way mirror spanning the length of one wall. He'd been left on his own for a while before a couple of detectives had walked in. One of them, a athletic looking white guy with curly hair who looked to be in his thirties was clutching a file. He dropped it onto the table as his partner, a tall blonde woman in a dark pants suit, slid into the chair opposite Sam.

'Good morning, Mr. Evans.' The woman said, eyeballing him as her partner sat down next to her.

'I'm Detective Sue Sylvester and this is my partner Detective Will Schuester.'

Schuester dipped his chin in what Sam supposed could pass for an acknowledgement before he spoke.

'From what we understand, Sam, do you mind if I call you Sam?' he asked, interrupting himself but not waiting for an answer.

'From what we understand, you were the last person to see Mercedes Jones on the night of the 16th, is that correct?'

Sam bit his lip and clasped his hands together on the table. He'd just wanted to file a report, but this was beginning to feel like an interrogation.

'I guess so,' he answered finally, 'I mean, I left her at around 10 at night so I guess someone could have seen her after me. Why? Is she ok? Did you find her?'

Sam couldn't keep the note of panic out of his voice as he realized that these officers might know something more than he did. What if Mercedes was hurt? Or worse? Sam didn't want to think about that. Mercy wasn't dead. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but he did. Either that or he just really didn't want to believe that anything could have happened to her. Truth be told, Sam was having a tough time wrapping his head around the fact that Mercedes was even missing.

'We'll ask the questions, if you don't mind, Evans.' The detective named Sue interrupted and Sam raised his hands up in a gesture of apology.

'Can you describe the last time you saw, Miss Jones?' Schuester continued, and Sam dutifully described his last walk with Mercedes, including how he'd left her by the river.

'Can anyone verify that?' Sylvester had queried, and Sam had had to admit that actually, no one outside his immediate family could. His parents had been there briefly when he'd gotten in, but his siblings were asleep, and there was no one to verify that he hadn't gone out again.

'But I don't understand,' Sam had said quietly, 'do you know if something has happened to Mercy?'

The two detectives had exchanged a look and Schuester had finally sighed and tapped the binding of the manila folder on the table as he explained.

'No, we don't know what happened yet. At this point in time, Miss Jones is a missing person. We're just trying to piece together the facts so we can try and figure out what happened as soon as possible.'

Sam looked between the two detectives, taking in their somber expressions and their unwillingness to meet his eyes.

'You think she'd dead, don't you?'

Schuester opened his mouth to say something but Sylvester stopped him with a hand on his arm.

'We don't know what happened, but we _do _know that the first 24 hours are critical when someone goes missing.'

'But 24 hours has already passed!' Sam's voice rose in frustration, 'You guys said we had to wait 24 hours before we could even report that she was missing!'

'Calm down, Sam.' Schuester advised. 'I know this is difficult, but we're going to need you to co-operate if we want to find her, ok?'

Sam nodded and rubbed his temples.

'Yeah, I know, I'm sorry.' He took a deep breath and let the air out in a long continuous stream.

'But I already told you guys everything I know. I don't know how much more help I can be.'

The detectives glanced at each other and seemed to be communicating something wordlessly before Sylvester slid back into her seat.

'Of course you did, but why don't you tell me again?'

Sam ran his hands through his hair as he once again recounted the last time he'd seen Mercedes. Schuester had left the room, to do what Sam didn't know, but he told the story again, in as much detail as he could remember, just in case something he said would help them find Mercedes.

The detectives made Sam repeat his story at least four times before they finally let him go and the afternoon sun was reflecting off the roofs of the cars in the parking lot when Sam finally emerged from the station. Sam felt emotionally drained by the time he reached the motel, and his worry for Mercedes had his nerves on edge. He'd lie down for a while when he got in, Sam decided. He realized that it wouldn't fix most of his troubles, but he figured that he might feel better equipped to deal with everything after a rest.

Sam had just fitted his key in the lock when, Figgins, the motel owner, stopped him.

'Samuel,' the older man had said to him in his heavily accented English, 'you have messages.'

Sam had practically run to the office when he'd heard that, praying that one of the messages would be from Mercedes, letting him know that she was ok.

Figgins had regarded Sam warily out of the corner of his eye when he'd done that, but Sam didn't want to fill the motel owner in on what was going on just yet. Figgins was a nice enough guy, but his wife was a huge gossip, and Sam knew that whatever he said to Figgins would eventually get back to her, which meant it would eventually be all over the town.

As it turned out, it didn't matter what Sam did or didn't say, Figgins had been fixing a broken sink when Sam's calls had come in, which meant that his wife had taken the messages, which meant that what Sam had carefully decided not to tell Figgins would be common knowledge in a few hours.

**Call from Santana Lopez at 10.27am**

Sam, a few of us are going to canvas the neighbourhood and see if anyone has seen Mercedes. We're meeting at 1pm if you want to help.

**Call from Dwight Evans at 12.33am**

Sam, I just got a phone call from a Det. Schuester. Is everything ok?

**Call from Santana Lopez at 1.14pm**

Where the f [Mrs Figgins had refused to write this word] are you? Do you even care that Mercedes is missing? If you do bother to show up give me a call.

**Call from Mary Evans at 1.25pm**

Honey, are you ok? Your dad said he got a call from the police station and no one has heard from you since this morning. Give one of us a call when you get this.

Sam checked his watch and ran a hand through his hair. It was 1.45pm, which meant he'd only just missed that last call from his mom. Sam dreaded to think what his parents must have been thinking. He'd fished in his pocket for some loose change as he'd dialed his mom's work number on the corner payphone outside the motel. She'd picked up on the third ring.

'_Mercedes is missing.' Sam told his mother after they'd said hello. 'I don't know what's happened to her.' He admitted, feeling the hot sting of tears prick in his eyes as his mom tried to soothe him down the line._

'_I was at the police station all morning,' Sam went on, 'I'm pretty sure they think I had something to do with it.'_

_There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone before Mary Evans spoke._

'_Why would they think that, Sammy?'_

_Sam leaned his head against the cool glass of the phone booth and closed his eyes, hoping against hope that when he opened them this whole situation would go away. That he would wake up in their crappy motel room in his stupid camp bed and then go for a walk with Mercy and laugh about how freaky the whole thing was._

'_Because I was the last person to see her.' Sam supplied. 'Because everybody but Mercy thinks I'm stupid and weird, because people don't understand our relationship.' Sam let out a sigh that hovered on the edge of becoming a wail._

'_I don't know! I just want her to be safe.' Sam's hands had formed into fists and he clenched them so tightly he could feel his short nails digging into his palms._

'_They seem to be more concerned with blaming me than they are about finding Merce.' Sam complained, the frustration turning his words sharp and bitter. Sam heard his mom let out a sigh of her own on the other end of the phone and knew she was considering what to say next._

'_Well,' Mary Evans began, 'you didn't do anything, and from what I understand they can't actually arrest you for anything until Mercedes turns up.'_

_Sam found himself nodding into the receiver as his mom continued._

'_So, just co-operate with the investigation until then, Sam.'_

'_Do you think they'll find her?' Mary hadn't heard her son sound that vulnerable since he was a small child, but Mary had gotten to know Mercedes pretty well herself while the girl was growing closer to her son, and she knew that Mercedes was not the type to run away without saying anything. If Mercedes was gone, Mary was certain that it wasn't of her own will, but telling Sam that would destroy him, so she did what she thought was best for the wellbeing of her child… and lied._

'_Yes, honey, I think they will.'_

Sam had stayed on the phone with his mom a little longer to talk about who was picking up his siblings and when, so it was quite a while after he'd returned to the motel before he'd actually managed to get into the motel room. He'd crossed immediately over to his camp bed and flopped into it with a groan. He needed to believe that the police would find Mercedes, he needed to believe that they'd find her just as safe and sound as he'd left her. The cops would handle it.

Except that, two weeks later, Santana had called to tell him that the police were no longer investigating Mercedes' disappearance. They'd told Santana that the trail had run cold and that a lack of evidence meant that they had to assume that Mercedes had just run off somewhere. When Santana had pressed them the detectives had just shrugged and said that there was nothing more they could do. The case was officially cold.

Sam lay on his back staring at the ceiling, he'd do this every now and again before he'd realize that he had to keep busy or he'd drive himself crazy coming up with scenarios regarding what might have happened to Mercedes. Despite what everyone had said, Sam couldn't believe that Mercedes would just up sticks and leave like that. He knew her better than that, she wouldn't go without saying anything to anyone, without saying anything to _him_.

Scrubbing a hand over his face Sam ran a hand through his hair and swept it to one side as he climbed up off the bed, deciding that doing laundry would be as good a distraction as any. He made quick work of stripping the beds of their covers and shoved them all into a large bag with the rest of his family's dirty washing, tossing in washing powder and conditioner before he zipped it up and hauled the whole thing over his shoulder, ready to take to the launderette around the corner. At the last minute, Sam turned and snagged a comic book from his backpack and shoved it on top of the pile, figuring that he could probably do with something to read while he waited, being alone with his thoughts was not a good prospect for him anymore.

Sam had finished loading two machines with laundry and they were spinning merrily, so he hopped up on top of one of the dryers and pulled out his comic, realizing belatedly that it was one that Mercedes had given him a few nights before she'd disappeared. It seemed like everywhere he turned there was _something_ reminding him of Mercy, reminding him that she might not be safe despite what the police said. Sam tried to shake the feeling as he turned to the first page.

One of the things that people didn't realise about Mercedes was that she was an amazing artist. Honestly, she was one of the best Sam had ever seen, but she didn't like to tell anyone. Instead it had become something between the two of them, a shared secret, especially when Sam had admitted that he was a massive comic book geek. Mercedes had laughed and shyly admitted that she drew her own comic book series, and had eventually given in when Sam had begged her to let him read it. Mercedes had been reluctant at first, she'd said that she hadn't shared her comics with anyone else, which made Sam feel extra special when she'd let him read them. He'd been overwhelmed with how good the comics were, and he was so vocal with his praise that Mercedes had started leaving him little clues and references in her comics that only he would get as a thank you, waiting patiently for him to spot them and delighting in his joy when he did. Sam tried to batten down the pang of fear he felt when he considered the fact that Mercedes might never draw another comic. He made a concerted effort to enjoy this one, to study it even harder in her honour. It would probably seem dumb to anyone else, but Sam knew that Mercedes would appreciate it.

That was probably how he spotted it. He knew he would have seen it eventually, but it was only because he was concentrating extra hard that he saw the signs, the clues that Mercedes had woven into her comic just for him to find. It was something she'd do sometimes, incorporate words and symbols into the artwork so you'd have to look extra hard to find them. Easter eggs, she'd told him once, and his face had split in a grin when he'd realized what she meant.

'_Like on a DVD?'_

'_Yup,' she'd nodded, 'only these ones are just for you.' She'd added, winking at him._

He'd spent hours poring over her comics in the past, and even now he could pick one up and see something new that he hadn't even noticed before.

Sam smiled at the memory and then frowned at the image in front of him. He could _swear_ that there was something off about that first frame.

Sam studied the comic with increasing determination when he realized what he was seeing, and he was so engrossed in piecing this little puzzle together that he completely failed to notice when both machines had finished their cycles. There was a _message _hidden in the first frame of Mercedes' comic book, it took a while, but after Sam had finally picked out all the hidden elements he sat back and put them all together in his head.

Sam felt a chill run down his spine that had nothing to do with the temperature in the launderette when he realized what the message said. It wasn't like the others Mercedes usually left him, those were usually in-jokes and dorky pop culture references, but as Sam stared down at the first frame he realized that although they had been close, there must have been an awful lot that Mercedes hadn't beentelling him, because the message read:

'_Sam, I think I'm in trouble.'_


	2. The Writing on the Wall

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or any of its characters. All rights to their respective owners

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><p>Sam spent the rest of the day and well into the night poring over the rest of the comic book, searching for any other clues that might help him understand what kind of trouble Mercedes was in, and maybe give him some idea whyshe hadn't been able to just <em>tell<em> him. Sam knew Mercedes, and if she'd been able to just come out and say all of this then he knew that she would have done. So why had she gone to the trouble of leaving him the message in her comic book? Sam rubbed his eyes and reached for his cup of coffee. He couldn't remember if it was his fourth… or maybe fifth? All he knew was that he'd been up all night studying the book but frustratingly he'd kept coming up empty.

Typical Mercedes, Sam thought dryly, she'd always said there was no point repeating a trick in the same book.

'_What's the point in having puzzles if you can just crack one and crack them all?' Mercy had_ _asked him one day after he'd complained that he'd only __**just**__ figured out a clue that she'd hidden in a comic he'd had for __**two months**__ already. _

'_Uh, so that I'll see everything?' _

_Sam's sarcastic tone and unspoken 'duh' had succeeded in earning him a big, fat pillow to the face._

'_You **already** see everything, Sam.' Mercedes had pointed out as she'd dropped her arms over her head and dangled them off the edge of his bed._

'_You just have to learn to know what you're looking at.'_

That had been on one of the rare occasions they'd hung out indoors instead of visiting their usual haunts, Sam recalled, and smiled at the memory that sprung to the forefront of his mind as he thought about it.

_It'd been raining hard the whole day and the puddles on the streets had begun to form little rivers that it was getting almost impossible to jump over. Sam had almost expected Mercedes to cancel their meet-up for the day but she'd shown up at his door at the normal time as usual. Sam hadn't even realized how heavy the rain was coming down until he'd opened the door to his best friend. _

_Even though she'd only made the short trip from car to motel door, Mercedes was __**drenched.**__ Sam had taken one look at her dripping on his doorstep and cooly the suggested that they forgo their walk for that night. Mercedes' eyes had twinkled and Sam had just started to wonder if _maybe _he ought to be worried when she'd grabbed his arm and pulled him out into the rain. _

'_Cede!' Sam had shrieked, laughing in shock as he brushed his dripping wet hair out of his eyes to look at his minx of a best friend. She had a huge smile stretched across her face, and even though Sam knew he should _probably_ be mad, he couldn't help but smile along with her._

'_Now we're both wet, Cedes!' He'd complained as he'd turned to go back inside, but the sound of the girl's laughter had stopped him._

'_Come ON, Sam!' she'd implored, 'You're always so **serious** all the time, so grown up! Don't you ever just want to be reckless and act like a kid for once?' _

_Sam had stopped as Mercedes' words had sunk in. It was true that he'd had to do a lot of growing up in a short time when he and his family had become homeless, there hadn't been a lot of room, or money, for him to do 'kid things' anymore. He'd sold his games system and his computer for money for the motel, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to go out without having to rush home to take care of his siblings. Sure, he was soaked, and he wasn't _actually_ wearing shoes, but his best friend (And the girl he was secretly in love with) was asking him to mess around in the rain with her, and Sam suddenly realized that he actually didn't want to do anything more. _

_Sam had turned back from the motel door and grabbed Mercedes around the waist, picking her up and spinning her around until all she could do was giggle giddily in his ear and clutch at his shoulders. When he'd put her down Sam had held onto her waist, pulling her to him and easing her into the rocking movements of a slow dance. He'd worried that she wouldn't go for it, but then Mercedes had slipped her hand into his and he'd stopped all other thoughts except enjoying the novelty of dancing with Mercedes Jones in the rain. One of them had started to hum, Sam couldn't remember who, and the other had joined in soon afterwards. _

'_Wise men say' He'd crooned softly into Mercy's ear,'Only fools rush in.' _

'_But I..' Sam had sung as he spun her away from him _

'_... can't help,', _

_He'd lightly tugged her back in and held her to him, swaying gently with her as he sang the rest of the line. _

'_Falling in love with you.'_

_It was only afterwards, when Sam's arms were around Mercedes and he was holding her warm, soft body against his chest again that the fog in his brain had cleared enough for Sam to realise what he'd just said. Mercy had looked up at him with something unreadable in her eyes and he'd held her gaze for an embarrassingly tense moment before he'd cleared his throat and stepped away from her. Something between them had shifted for that brief moment and Sam wasn't sure he'd liked it. He'd felt suddenly embarrassed and self-conscious, so he looked away from her and looked towards the door of the motel room instead._

_._

'_We'd best get inside.' He'd ventured into the awkward silence that followed._

'_Wouldn't want you to get sick.'_

_Sam had cringed inwardly after that comment, it had sounded like something his **mother **would say. Sam was silently berating himself for making things awkward with Mercedes and ruining the moment when she had reached out and placed a surprisingly warm hand against his cheek. _

'_You know, you have a pretty amazing voice, Sammy.' she'd told him_

_Sam had flushed and muttered a thank you, but Mercedes had looked into his eyes and given him a smile that had warmed his insides like a shot of fine whisky. He'd smiled dazedly back at her as he took the hand that was on his cheek and used it to pull her gently towards the motel door._

'_Come on, let's get your butt inside before you get all pruney.' _

_Afterwards, Mercedes had lay sprawled over Sam's bed in the motel room while she waited for her stuff to dry. She was wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his sweats that were so ridiculously long on her he could probably cut them in half and still have them be too big. Sam' siblings, Stacie and Stevie, were sleeping over at a friend's house, so Sam was taking full advantage of the opportunity to hang out with Mercedes without anyone else around. He'd given her his clothes to wear while hers dried innocently enough, but the sight of Mercy in his clothes had __**done**_ _something to him. That was why he was sitting at the desk on the opposite side of the room reading over one of her old comics in order to distract himself from the sight of her… lying on his bed… wearing his clothes…completely oblivious to the things she was doing to him. God. Damnit._

Sam felt the smile slide of his face as he thought of Mercedes as she had been then, fun, carefree, untroubled. Not for the first time, Sam wished he'd known what the hell was going on with her. What had freaked her out so much? And if it was that bad, then why had she sent him home that night instead of just letting him walk her back to her apartment like he'd asked?

Sam wanted answers, but more than that he wanted Mercy back. He _had_ to find her, he _had_ to get her back, whatever it took.

The next day Sam took Mercedes' comic down to the police station and asked to see one of the detectives on her case. Schuester was out, but Detective Sylvester agreed to see him, although she looked less than thrilled by the prospect when he was shown to her desk.

Sam took a seat across from the female detective and tried not to shift in his seat as she regarded him stonily from across the desk.

'Uh,' Sam started, and then coughed to clear his throat. 'I found something that might help you find Mercedes.' Sam began, his words gathering momentum as he tried to explain.

'Mercedes drew these comic books, right? And she used to leave these puzzles for me in them, just regular stuff you know, but I was looking at this one the other day and I think Mercedes was in trouble. Look…'

Sam flipped the comic open and pointed to the first frame, trying to show the detective what he'd seen. _Didn't they have specialists for this kind of thing?_ He wondered, _people who would be able to solve the hidden problems way quicker than he could. _For the first time since he'd found out that Mercedes was missing, Sam allowed himself to truly _hope, _to honestly believe, without also quietly preparing for the worst, that Mercy would be found. Sam was sure that with the support of the police force Mercy would be home in no time.

Doubt began to creep into Sam's mind when Detective Sylvester didn't even look at what Sam was trying to show her, instead she took in his face, his disheveled appearance and narrowed her eyes at him briefly.

'I bet you read a lot of comics, don't you, Sam?' she said in that half-soothing, half-patronising voice that adults tended to use when talking to small children.

'Uh… I guess.' Sam replied, not sure what the right answer to that question would be but certain that he'd pick the wrong one.

'And I'm guessing that Miss Jones running off like that has taken quite a toll on you.'

Sam started to protest that Mercedes _hadn't _run away but Sylvester cut him off.

'I know you want to believe that there's some big conspiracy or plot behind Miss Jones' disappearance, Sam, but let me tell you something. I've been in this business a long time, and you know what I've learned?'

Sam shook his head, already certain that it wasn't going to be anything good.

'I've learned that sometimes people just leave, Sam. Sometimes they disappoint you. Sometimes they have a whole other life that you weren't even aware of.'

'But she left this message in-'

'Evans.'

The command in the older woman's voice made Sam stop short, especially when she coupled it with a firm glare, she looked like Professor McGonagall, Sam thought bitterly, or maybe _Umbridge_.

'You read a lot of comic books and you just lost someone close to you.' Sylvester continued, 'I get it. Maybe you want to believe that there's some big mystery to be solved, maybe you're trying to prove to this town that their suspicions are unfounded. Maybe you've just watched too many detective movies. I don't know, but you need to give this up, Sam. Right now. Go home. Get some rest. Look at you, you look like you haven't slept in days.'

Sam chose not to respond to her implication, it was true that he hadn't slept in a while, but that was because he was _onto_ something. It was _right there to see_ if Sylvester would just _look_, but she didn't.

'Miss Jones probably got mixed up in the wrong crowd and skipped town.' Sue went on, 'She doesn't appear to have had the best track record when it comes to choosing her relationships.'

Sam clenched his jaw, Mercedes had the biggest heart of anyone he knew, and this woman was talking about her like she was street scum.

'What's that supposed to mean?' Sam asked, a note of warning in his voice.

The detective raised an eyebrow at him.

'Don't take that tone with me, Evans. You won't win.' Sylvester sighed and moved a few things on her desk so she could lean forward to talk to him.

'Did you know that Mercedes' ex-boyfriend is serving jail time on drug charges?'

Sam's eyes widened in surprise, he _hadn't_ known that, but then Mercedes' had made it a point not to talk about her ex that much anyway. She'd told him that she'd entered into a relationship with Shane for 'all the wrong reasons.' and that they'd broken up because, '_they'd not been _right_ for each other'_. But that was all he'd known, and he hadn't wanted to bring up her ex anyway. He was obviously her ex for a _reason._

Sam just hadn't realized that part of that reason might have been because he was a criminal.

'Not to mention the fact that _you yourself _do not have the most sparkling reputation Mr Evans.' Sylvester continued, apparently oblivious to Sam's thoughts.

'Let her go, Sam.' The detective told him, 'Just let her go, and move on… and stop with this comic book stuff. You're too old for make-believe, kid.'

Sam nodded and stood, holding out a hand to shake Det. Sylvester's as he did so. He didn't need to hear any more. It was pretty clear that the cops weren't going to listen to a damn thing he said anyway. Sylvester hadn't even bothered to look at the comic! She'd just assumed that he was lying, or that he was too stupid to tell the difference between fiction and reality. Sam had to resist the urge to punch something - that really wouldn't be a good move in a police station, surrounded by officers who pretty much considered him guilty until proven innocent.

Sam waited until he was clear of the police station before he stopped and tried to calm himself down. He couldn't go back to the motel room mad, it was so cramped that he'd be bouncing off the walls, and he couldn't afford to take it out on his family with all of them living in such close proximity.

Sam trained his eyes on a nearby building and focused on counting to ten as he slowly inhaled and exhaled. He'd gone about four rounds before he started to feel the anger ebbing away from him. His vision shifted as his eyes refocused and Sam was able to register what he'd been looking at this whole time.

It was a piece of street art, depicting an emaciated figure playing a portable video game. The artist had drawn the figure so that you could see that he was playing a game of PacMan. _Deep. _Sam thought, and wondered idly if Mercy had seen it. The thought stopped him in his tracks. He _knew _Mercy had seen it, because _he'd _seen it before pulled the comic out of his back and frantically flipped the pages until he found the one he was looking for.

He held the comic up against the painting on the wall and bit his lip. Mercy had definitely drawn the wall into her comic, and Sam had a feeling that she wouldn't have done that without a reason. Still, the angle was off, so Sam knew that Mercedes hadn't drawn it standing here.

Sam crossed the street and edged his way down, trying to match up the vantage point of the comic with the image he was seeing. Finally, Sam stopped by a building with a huge set of windows in the front. Black stenciled lettering on the window read, _Central Lima Public Library _underneath someone from the library had hand painted the addendum '_Party hard with your library card.' _With that paint stores usually used to announce closing down sales.

Sam smiled at the words, knowing that they had been Mercy's idea. She'd volunteered with the library for as long as he'd known her and she'd blushed before admitting that the extra words were her handiwork one day when Sam had pointed them out on a visit with his younger siblings.

Sam pulled the door open and stepped inside, his eyes still trained on the window to figure out _exactly _where Mercedes had sat when she'd drawn the frame. It _had _to be a clue. _Somehow._

Sam was so engrossed with his task that he didn't see the young blonde woman until he'd already bumped into her. Sam put out a steadying hand to catch her as he apologized profusely for walking into her.

'I am _so _sorry, ma'am.' He told her, his accent coming out thicker because he was flustered.

'Are you alright?'

The blonde woman let out a throaty laugh and nodded,

'I'm just fine. No harm done.'

The woman smiled up at him and Sam had to admit that she was incredibly pretty. She had her blonde hair cut into a sleek bob and her green eyes regarded him curiously under long eyelashes – she kinda reminded him of Stacey, Sam decided, but what Stacey might look like if she were his age.

'I'm Quinn,' the girl told him, 'I work here. Maybe I can help you find what it is you're looking for?'

_If only, _Sam thought, but somehow he doubted that the girl had Cedes stashed in the back there.

'I wish you could,' Sam said on a sigh, 'but unless you have a Mercedes Jones back there then-'

'Oh, you know Merce?' Quinn asked, her face lighting up,

'Wait,' she stopped him as realization dawned on her face, 'you're _Sam_, right?

Quinn looked even more delighted when Sam nodded,

'Of course! I probably should have guessed that when I heard the accent.' She admitted.

'So you're Sam.' Quinn said, more to herself than to him as she gave him the once over.

'You know, Mercedes talks about you a lot.'

Sam about to ask her what kinds of things Mercy said when Quinn continued.

'But if you're looking for her I'm afraid she's not working today. She's actually not been in for a while… You don't know if she's sick or anything, do you?'

Sam's eyes momentarily squeezed shut in response to Quinn's question. _He didn't want to have to do this_, Sam thought fiercely, _He was barely coming to terms with the whole thing himself, he didn't want to have to tell someone else that Mercedes was missing._ But Quinn had to hear it from somewhere, and Sam couldn't bring himself to lie to her either.

'Oh wow,' he said after a second, 'you don't know.'

Quinn narrowed her eyes at him, and her voice had a decided edge when she asked, 'Don't know what?'

Sam took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, reaching out his other hand to gently guide Quinn by the elbow to a comfy looking lavender blue sofa in the corner.

'What's going on?' Quinn demanded when she was seated. Sam balled his fists in his lap and swallowed.

'Mercedes is missing.' He ignored Quinn's soft gasp as he continued, 'She disappeared two and a half weeks ago and no one's seen or heard from her since.'

'Oh my God.' Quinn sounded stricken as she stared at a spot on the carpet.

'Oh my God.' She repeated a second later.

'Did she say anything to you?' Sam pressed, 'Anything about going away? Or a boyfriend? Or do you know if she maybe had issues with anyone?'

Quinn shook her head,

'No, she never said she wanted to leave. She actually seemed happy here…' The girl trailed off, clearly thinking of some other moment before she brought herself back,

'And no, no boyfriend. I kinda thought _you _were her boyfriend, actually.' The girl confessed, 'I just thought that she was trying to keep it quiet.'

Sam eyebrows knit together in confusion,

'Why? Did she say I was?'

Quinn shook her head.

'No, no, nothing like that. It's just the way she talks about you. Her whole face lights up, you know?'

This was news to Sam, but hopefully it would be something that he'd be able to discuss with Cede when he found her, so he filed the thought away in his head to take out and examine later. Besides, it hadn't escaped him that Quinn hadn't answered his question.

'Quinn,' he asked steadily, looking her dead in the eye, 'do you know if Mercedes had issues with anyone?'

Quinn shook her head but wouldn't meet his eyes.

'Why would anyone have issue with Mercy? She's one of the sweetest people I know.'

_That wasn't actually an answer_, Sam noted, but he didn't push it. Quinn was hiding something, but he'd have to be smart if he wanted to figure out what.

'Alright,' Sam let out a gusty sigh.

'I didn't mean to be the bearer of bad news.' He gave Quinn an apologetic look, 'you know what, I'm sure I've taken up enough of your day so far, and I know I've left you with a lot to take in. I'll just go find what I was looking for on my own.'

Sam patted Quinn's arm tentatively and stood, pulling the comic out of his bag again as soon as he was out of the blonde girl's line of sight.

Eventually, Sam managed to locate the aisle he thought Mercedes must have been in when she had drawn the comic but now he was there he couldn't figure out what to do next.

He was in the World History section of the library, scanning the rows around him for something that could qualify as a clue.

_This would be so much easier if I knew what I was looking for_, he grumbled to himself as he scanned the stacks of shelves next to him. Maybe if he could find the _exact _spot it might narrow it down some, he thought, and spent the next few minutes trying to find the _precise _position Mercy had been in, all the while wondering if she'd really bother going into this much detail.

Sam scanned the shelves again when he thought he finally had her positioning down and tried not to let out a groan of frustration when he _still_ didn't see anything. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, maybe an envelope with his name written on it or something.

_Think, Sam, think! _He urged himself, _you're _looking_ but not _seeing.

Sam gave the stacks immediately to either side of him another look and couldn't keep the incredulity off his face when he saw it.

Nestled, completely out of place, between two thick tomes on 18th century Spain was a book with a title so obvious that Sam rolled his eyes and muttered, 'Really, Cede?' under his breath.

Sam had been planning to check a book out of the library anyway. He'd wanted to have an excuse to come back and try and get some more information out of Quinn. _That girl was definitely hiding something_, _and it somehow involved Mercedes._

Quinn raised her eyebrows as if to say, '_Really?' _as she checked _I Am Sam _out on Sam's library card.

'It had a catchy title.' He said by way of an explanation and shrugged.

Quinn just shook her head and handed the book to him,

'Well, enjoy your read.' She flashed him a smile that didn't meet her eyes and watched as he swung open the door and stepped out of the library.

Sam didn't know what he was looking for, he was certain that Mercedes had put the book there for him to find, but _now_ what was he supposed to do with it? After wasting the whole day to trying to crack the _I Am Sam_ puzzle to no avail Sam was beginning to get more than a little frustrated.

'What would you do if you were trying to find something in a book, Stace?' he asked his little sister as wrapped her arms around him and hopped up onto his lap.

She'd started sucking her thumb again, Sam noticed, that wasn't a good sign. He thought she'd grown out of that when she was two and she was almost seven now.

'I'd go to the front of the book and look at the contents page.' She recited dutifully as she snuggled into his neck. That was a perfectly legit answer, Sam agreed, but unfortunately it had also been one of the first things he tried, with no luck.

'That's not what I'd do.' Sam's little brother, Stevie, volunteered from where he had evidently been listening in.

'Oh yean well what would you do, Space Cadet?' Sam asked him, and was shocked when his little brother picked up the book by it's spine and shook it vigorously so the pages flapped like a bird.

'Get it?' the boy giggled, 'because you want to find something _in-'_

Stevie stopped talking abruptly when a scrap of paper flew out from between the pages and fluttered to the ground. Sam and his little brother exchanged a look before returning their attention to the paper on the floor. Sam bent down to pick it up, wondering if the answer could really have been that simple this whole time. He flipped the sheet over in his hand, half expecting it to be someone's long forgotten grocery list or an old bookmark. Sam had to admit that that was unlikely when he saw what was written on the page, of course there was the fact that he'd recognize Mercedes' handwriting anywhere, but more obviously than that, he knew it was meant for him _because it had his name on it_.

* * *

><p>The song Sam and Mercedes dance to is <em>Can't Help Falling In Love<em> by Elvis Presley.

Disclaimer: I do not own Can't Help Falling In Love With You, PacMan or any of the other pop culture references in this chapter. All rights go to the respective owners.

Hope you enjoyed the update! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews on the last chapter!


	3. Annie, Are You Ok?

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own Glee.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, aside from his name on the top of the paper, the rest of the note didn't really seem to make a lot of sense. Sam had to stop himself from balling the paper up and throwing it across the room in frustration. <em>Why couldn't anything be simple? <em>He thought angrily, _Why couldn't the girl have left him a frackin' __**answerphone**__ message or something?_

The page was covered with what looked to be a list of codes of some kind. Apparently random combinations of letters, numbers and period points, some of the codes had vertical lines drawn through their centre, but Sam couldn't immediately see the significance of that either.

_Great, another fracking riddle baked into an enigma. _Sam thought bitterly, _What the hell were you involved in, Mercedes? And why the need for all these __**clues**__?_

Sam sighed, at least he had something more to go on than he did before, and that was all thanks to his little brother. Sam reached out a hand and ruffled Stevie's hair, earning himself a few disgruntled protests. Clearly, Stevie considered himself too old for that kind of thing now.

'Did it help?' the younger Evans asked as he shoved Sam's hand away from where it was straying dangerously near his hair again.

'Honestly?' Sam asked on a sigh, 'I'm not sure yet… but I hope so.'

Sam called around at the apartment Mercy shared with Santana early the next evening, he'd called ahead and asked if he could come over, but Sam had decided it was best to try and explain what he wanted face to face.

'What?' Santana scowled at him in lieu of a greeting when she opened the door.

'Um, hey Santana.' Sam voice sounded unnaturally loud and awkward as he hovered in the doorway.

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Sam that even though she had the time to tell him that Mercy's case was no longer being investigated, Santana really didn't like him all that much. Sam guessed that the woman still hadn't forgiven him for not showing up at the neighbourhood canvassing thing she'd organized to help find Mercy. Sam hadn't wanted to tell her that he'd been at the police station, the last thing he needed was for someone else to think he was responsible for Mercy's disappearance, and something told him that Santana was not the kind of person you would want for an enemy.

'It's sort of… I needed to ask you… wow, I should have prepared.' Sam muttered as he tried to figure out where to start.

'I'm investigating Mercy's disappearance on my own and I… wondered if I could check her room for clues as to what might have happened to her.'

Santana rolled her eyes but looked less hostile than she had been when she'd first opened the door.

'The police already checked her room right after it happened.' She explained, with a raise of her eyebrow. 'They didn't find anything.'

Sam hit her with the most charming, disarming smile he had at his disposal.

'But the police don't know her like I do. _Please Santana?_' Sam wasn't usually one for begging, but he was pretty sure that a woman like Santana would respond well to being put in a position of power. Of course, there was always the chance it could backfire and she'd say 'no' just because she _could_, but Sam was banking on the hope that Santana wanted Mercy to be found almost as much as he did.

'Alright, fine, whatever.' She finally acquiesced with a wave of her hand as she stepped out of the doorway and took off down the hall, obviously expecting him to follow her. Santana led him to Mercedes' room but stopped with a hand on the doorknob.

'Let me make something clear, Huckleberry Dim. For reasons I cannot quite understand Mercedes seems to like you, so I guess she wouldn't mind you pawing through her things. But if I catch you sniffing her underwear or doing any other freaky ass crap then I _will_ hurt you, got that?' Sam nodded meekly before Santana continued.

'And I swear to God, if you touch _any_ of my stuff - you're losing body parts.' Santana eyed Sam's crotch ominously before she turned the doorknob and showed him into Mercedes' room. Sam had been there before, of course, but not without Mercedes around, and the room felt eerie and disconcerting without her in it.

All Mercedes' things were as she'd left them, almost completely undisturbed aside from the thin layer of dust that had begun to settle over everything. Sam made a beeline straight to her bedside cabinet, hoping that by some sheer, dumb luck there'd be a diary or something in there that would tell him everything he needed to know.

Sam was checking the drawers when movement in the mirror on Mercy's closet door caught his eye. He watched with interest as Santana opened Mercy's laptop. She clearly didn't think that Sam would be able to see her - his back was to her, after all - and she'd obviously completely failed to take the mirror into account. Sam watched as Santana pulled up Mercy's email account, and had no trouble logging in as Mercy had evidently told her computer to remember her passwords. Sam looked on in confusion, his hand still in a half opened drawer as Santana began _deleting _emails.

Sam was rooted to the spot in shock, he was unsure whether or not he should try to confront Santana about what she was doing. If she was involved in Mercedes' disappearance - _which was looking more and more likely by the second - _then confronting her might be dangerous, not just for himself but for Mercy too. Sam watched as Santana logged out of the email account and closed everything down as if she'd never touched it.

For the first time Sam realized how completely out of his depth he was. What if Santana found out he knew something and hurt Mercedes? What if she _killed _her? Sam had no idea what motivations the girl might possibly have for taking Mercy, but he didn't want to risk anything else happening to her, if she was even still alive, he thought darkly as Santana quietly excused herself from the room.

When he heard the soft click of a door closing down the hall Sam stopped and sat down heavily on Mercedes' bed. _If Santana was keeping Mercy someplace then she'd have to visit her eventually_, he reasoned, _but he couldn't risk Santana finding out that he suspected her, and the police wouldn't want to know_ - _he'd learned _that_ particular lesson already_. Sam ran his hands through his hair as he felt the first telltale throbs of a headache coming on. After a moment he stood up and logged on to Mercedes' email account. There were a bunch of emails from him, some from the library, a couple from her day job and a few things the junk filter had missed, but nothing that looked out of the ordinary. Sam clicked the trash folder but it was empty. _Clever girl, _Sam allowed silently, Santana had made sure to leave no trace of whatever it was she didn't want him stumbling across. Sam shook his head as he shut down the laptop once more. If he wanted to know what Santana was up to then he'd have to find out another way. He'd have to follow her, and if she _was _the enemy then Sam had to make sure that she didn't find out about the clues Mercy had been leaving him.

Sam searched the rest of Mercy's room with one eye on the door the whole time, but he didn't find anything that struck a chord. Eventually, Sam had to abandon his search in favour of getting to work on time. Usually, Sam worked as a cleaner at a local mall, mostly during the daytime while Stacey and Stevie were at school, but three nights a week he picked up extra cash working at a place called _The Velvet Hardball. _He wasn't exactly proud of it, but there was no denying that the money he got for displaying his… _assets_ at the _Hardball _made a huge difference to his family. It wasn't ideal, but then, none of it was, really. He'd much prefer to be living on his own, or with friends, like regular guys in their early 20s, but there wasn't enough money for _one _apartment, let alone _two, _and Sam's parents had desperately needed the free fulltime childcare he provided.

So, for the time being, Sam was stuck living with his family in the motel, hoping against hope that the money he made stripping would help to change their situation sooner rather than later, _unless he was late and got himself fired, _Sam realised as he threw his jacket back on and called out a goodbye.  
>Tomorrow he would start trailing Santana, but for now all he could do was pray that this was the breakthrough he needed to find Mercy.<p>

Sam was bored.

He'd been up early despite coming in late from _The Velvet Hardball, _but he'd wanted to catch Santana before she left just in case she led him to Mercedes. So far Santana had gone to her college classes, and then to the gym, and then to the store where she'd bought nothing but groceries, and now she was back in the apartment apparently eating and watching TV.

Sam wished he were doing the same.

It was 10pm, and Sam was beginning to fight the urge to doze off when Santana came out of the apartment, darted a suspicious look at the area surrounding her (but didn't see him, _thank God.)_ pulled her thin coat tighter around herself and started walking. She was wearing heels, Sam observed, and from the looks of it her _whatever-she-had-on-under-that-coat_ came up pretty short too. He couldn't even see the hem from underneath the bottom of the thigh-length jacket. Sam followed along quietly behind the slight girl, as she hailed a cab and made her way across town. Sam was grateful for the rare blessing that meant that both his parents were in that evening. It had allowed him to make use of the family car, and Sam would have lost Santana for definite if he hadn't have had it.

After about 15 minutes of driving, the cab pulled up outside what looked like a bar on the outskirts of town. Sam saw Santana get out of the cab and hug a tall, slim blonde woman. Santana whispered something into the woman's ear and they pulled apart. They both looked around again, as if they expected someone to be watching them, and then walked inside the bar. Sam circled the block and then parked further off down the street, choosing to get out and watch the club on foot, just in case Santana spotted and recognized his car.

Two and a half hours later, the blonde woman emerged from the club, got into a sleek, black sedan and pulled out of the bar's parking lot. Sam raced back to his car to follow her only to find that she hadn't gone far. She'd pulled around to what appeared to be the bar's service entrance, and it was only a few minutes before Santana came out and slipped into the passenger seat beside the mystery woman. Sam tried to hang back as much as possible but it was difficult as he followed the sedan to its destination. Who this blonde woman was he had no idea. He'd never seen her before, but Santana obviously knew her, and they were acting so secretive about the whole thing that Sam couldn't help but be suspicious. A few minutes later the Sedan pulled up outside a building that looked like a warehouse, but neither Santana nor the blonde woman got out of the car. They appeared to be having some sort of argument, Sam figured, watching them from his vantage point a little way away. He wished he'd brought his binoculars, but he didn't have any other than Stacey's bright orange 'Adventure Science!' pair, and somehow they didn't scream _covert _to him, probably because they were such an obnoxious shade they practically glowed in the dark.

Sam squinted out his windshield as he watched Santana wave her arms in the air, clearly agitated, while the blonde woman leaned against the opposite car door and regarded her coolly. As an afterthought Sam cranked the window open a couple of inches in the hopes that he might catch some of their conversation.

The blonde woman had evidently just said something, but her voice was so soft that Sam couldn't hear it, he certainly heard Santana's reaction though.

'It's _not about her_!'

Sam sat up straighter in his seat, all senses on alert. Could they be talking about Mercy?

'Well, yeah, she's very important to me!' Santana was saying. Sam watched as the feisty woman held up a hand against whatever it was the blonde was saying and pinched the bridge of her nose.

'But if she's not going to come through for us then she's gone. I'll take her out of the picture if that's what I have to do.'

Sam felt his blood run cold, that didn't sound good, and if Santana was talking about Mercy… Sam gave his head a definite shake, he would _not_ think about that. _One step at a time_, he told himself fiercely as Santana got out of the car, seeming to slam her door slightly harder than necessary as the Blonde drove the car out of sight, only to appear a few minutes later on foot. Sam wondered where she'd stashed the car and why The Blonde looked placated, but Sam could see that the argument was far from over on Santana's side. Mercy's roommate was clearly still riled up from the discussion they'd been having.

Sam watched as the pair made their way to the entrance of the warehouse before The Blonde produced a key and let them into the building. After a few minutes Sam undid his seatbelt and quietly stepped out of his car, praying that the women wouldn't make a sudden reappearance. He wanted to know what the deal was with the warehouse before he decided whether or not to tail Santana and The Blonde for the whole night. Dark clouds had rolled in during the course of the argument in the car, and Sam was grateful for the cover they provided. Every now and again small patches of moonlight would peek through and illuminate the pavement inside of the building, so Sam worked quickly keeping to the shadows as best he can until he got close enough to the door to see the column of lights and name tags next to the entrance. _So, the warehouse was an apartment,_ Sam realized, coming closer to get a better look at the names, although given the way his heart was beating and his fear that one, or both, of the women would appear at any second he wasn't sure how many names he'd be able to take in. He pretty much had his dyslexia under control, but a lot of the techniques and coping mechanisms he'd developed tended to fly out the window when he was stressed. Sam scanned the names by the apartment door quickly, wishing he knew which apartment Santana and the Blonde had gone into. Santana's name wasn't on any of the name tags so he figured it must be the Blonde's apartment he was standing outside of – if it belonged to either of them at all. He doubted that they were keeping Mercy inside, surely there'd be too many people to notice if something went wrong, and he couldn't imagine how they'd managed to get her in there in the first place. He didn't think Mercy would have gone willingly. Sam slunk back to his car feeling like he'd taken one step forward and two steps back. He _still _didn't know where Mercy was, and now there was yet another suspect to add to the growing list: Quinn, Santana and now this mysterious blonde woman. Maybe they were all in it together? Sam mused as he shut the car door and slid his seat belt into the socket. He figured he'd wait a couple more hours and if Santana and the blonde didn't come out again he'd have to give it up for the night and go home. He had to take Stevie and Stacie to school in the morning and he knew it was going to be a struggle as it was, staying out all night was just not an option unless he thought he was in with a good chance of finding Mercy, and that didn't seem likely tonight.

When neither woman appeared again within the next two hours Sam let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead on the cool leather of the steering wheel. He had zero idea what to do with the information he'd learned and he was _exhausted. _He drove home on autopilot and practically fell into bed as soon as he'd brushed his teeth and washed his face, he had less than 5 hours before he had to take his sibs to school and it didn't feel like nearly enough time.

When his alarm rang early the next morning Sam knew that what little sleep he'd managed wasn't enough. He'd fallen asleep almost as soon as his head had hit the pillow, but he'd been woken by nightmares several times during the night. All of which had involved Mercy in danger. Mercy dying in his arms, Mercy falling with a hand outstretched to his, begging him to save her, Mercy screaming out his name as an unseen assailant tortured her. In every dream Sam was powerless to help her, no matter what he did. His fingers always _just _missed saving her from plummeting to her doom, and whenever he tried to run to her his legs moved like they were in molasses, his legs growing heavy as led as he tried to reach her before her attacker could cause her any more pain. He was always too late.

Sam woke up sobbing into a pillow already wet with tears. Although he hoped his family hadn't noticed he could tell by the eerily quiet way his younger siblings went about their morning routine that they had. Not for the first time, Sam found himself wishing for a little privacy away from the motel. If things had been better he would have been able to cry in private. If things had been better he wouldn't have reason to cry at all. Sam knew that his emotional state had freaked his brother and sister out, even though he was aware that his parents had tried to explain to them 'why Sammy was sad'.

The two children fluttered around the apartment like ghosts as they readied their schoolbags, communicating in hushed whispers only when it became absolutely necessary and exchanging wide eyed glances with each other whenever Sam spoke. Stevie had barely even argued when Stacie had commandeered the last Strawberry juice box. He'd started to, opening his mouth to protest loudly against the perceived injustice until Stacie's harsh whisper and pointed glare in Sam's direction had stopped him mid-track, then he'd wordlessly packed the Grape one without any further complaint.

Sam hated that they were walking on eggshells around him, and if he hadn't have been so bone tired he would have made more of an effort to put on a front for the kids. They'd been through a lot already and Sam didn't want them to have to deal with this burden too. Stacie and Stevie had both known and liked Mercedes, so he was extra careful to keep information about her disappearance to himself. Sam didn't know how much they were aware of in terms of her disappearance, but he was determined that they wouldn't learn anything from him that might potentially scar them. He hustled the kids out the door and into the car, and made sure that everyone had everything they needed and were strapped in before he started the engine to pull out of the motel parking lot.

All three Evans children were unnaturally quiet during the car ride to the school, and the quiet only served to make Sam more aware of his sleep deprived state. He made the decision to stop into a coffee shop before he headed out to his job at the shopping centre or else resign himself to being a zombie all through his shift. After he'd waved the kids off at the school gate he made a slight detour and pulled up in front of _Has Beans _coffee shop. There weren't a lot of coffee places in Lima but Sam still hadn't frequented this one very often. He'd have coffee breaks with Mercy all the time, but they'd both found that a lot of places had a clientele that wasn't so… _accepting. _Lima was a small town, and what with Sam's reputation and the fact that she was black and he was white… it got a little uncomfortable. The spot he'd gone to with Mercy was called _The Lima Bean. _It was kinda their little secret, a small coffee shop out of the way where everyone was so laid back no one gave a crap about who he was supposed to be or their skin colours. Sam had loved it. He'd thought about going there now but the thought of walking through those familiar doors and sitting at _their _table without Mercy was just too painful. He'd eventually opted for _Has Beans, _his need for coffee outweighing his concern about how he'd be received.

Sam pushed open the door and stepped inside the small coffee shop. The place was busy, as was to be expected during the crucial post-school run/ pre-work window, but he figured that he'd be one of the last of that crowd before it started to slack off again. Sam joined the end of the queue and tried not to smile as he realized that he was the only one in the line not dressed in a suit or clutching a smart phone desperately in their hands. There was a time when he'd probably have thought that the information on those tiny devices was the most important thing in the world, but the school of hard knocks had taught Sam otherwise. He'd realized that his family was the most important thing in his life, and in a way he was glad that everything that had happened had enabled him to see that.

Those thoughts led him to thoughts of Mercedes - she was his family too and yet he had no idea how to protect her. It wasn't like he'd done the most stellar job thus far either, he had no idea where she was, no idea what condition she was in, and no idea who had her. _Wonderful _he thought sullenly, _so what you have is a big fat _**nothing**. _Except that wasn't exactly true, _he qualified, _he had stuff, he just didn't know what to do with it. There was the comic book, the list of codes that had fallen out of the book, a growing list of suspects and a number of leads to pursue. _Sam bit his lip as he wondered how to proceed with the leads that he had, he'd try to talk to Quinn again when he returned his book, although he wouldn't be doing that until he was certain there was nothing more in it to find and then there was the mess with Santana. He didn't want to believe that the girl was involved in Mercy's disappearance, but she'd been acting so incredibly shady that he couldn't rule her out as a suspect, and if she _did _have something to do with it then Sam would have to tread very, very carefully.

'Sir? Would you like to place an order?' the voice snapped Sam out of his reverie and he looked around him, noticing for the first time that the line had dwindled while he was lost in thought.

'God, sorry!' he apologized, stepping up to the counter as he searched his pockets for his wallet, 'I guess I was lost in my own world for a second there.'

'That's ok! I do that all the time!'

Sam's fingers finally closed around his wallet and he pulled it out of his pocket looking up to smile at the cashier's chirpy response. The wallet slipped from Sam's suddenly numb fingers and he bent to retrieve it with a hasty apology, not sure if he'd imagined what he thought he'd seen. He straightened slowly, dusting imaginary lint off his jeans as he stood and placed his wallet on the counter. Sam looked up at the girl waiting to take his order again and confirmed to himself that he _hadn't_ imagined it. The girl behind the counter was _the_ Blonde. _Santana's blonde._

He ordered automatically while his thoughts rushed ahead of him. The girl didn't seem a threat at all, and close up she was not at all what he'd expected, there was a simplicity to her expression that made him think that she was about as likely to mastermind a kidnapping plot as he was to win a Lima popularity contest. Sam's gaze flicked to the name badge pinned to her work apron, but the huge glittery unicorn sticker she'd stuck to it kept him from registering her name for a second. It almost looked like the badge was saying "_Hello, I am Unicorn. Ask me about our Mocha Mint Whip Today!_" Sam shook his head. He _must_ be tired if his brain was coming up with that kind of nonsense. He looked again and noticed the text written in cramped handwriting next to the sticker, obviously she considered the unicorn more important than her actual name – _Brittany._

Well, at least he had a name now, Sam thought, but this girl was looking less and less like a suspect by the minute.

'Cool unicorn sticker.' Sam smiled weakly at her and the girl beamed back at him.

'Thanks! I love unicorns, they're unique and special, and they kinda remind me that people are unique and special too.' Brittany explained brightly as she made his order.

As Sam had predicted he was the last of the morning commuters and knowing that hehe made a split second decision that he hoped wouldn't come back to bite him on the ass, or worse, to bite _Mercy_ on the ass. Sam tried to clear his mind of the temporary fog thoughts of Mercy's ass had descended on his brain and attempted to concentrate on the task at hand. Brittany seemed to be a talker, and she clearly didn't recognize him so Sam was hoping that if he played his cards right and asked the right questions he might leave with a few more answers than he had coming in.

'That must come in handy during peak times.' Sam quipped and Brittany shrugged, 'Sometimes. People are generally ok, but their usually a lot nicer once they've had some coffee.' A smile came unbidden to Sam's face and he nodded his head in agreement. 'I'm pretty sure you're right.' He took a deep breath and ploughed on,

'Like, I know this girl, Santana? And I swear I can't even talk to her until she's had her coffee in the mornings. I mean literally, she won't let me!' Sam chuckled as Brittany visibly perked up.

'You know San?' she asked in the same tone of voice that anyone else might use to say, _'you know a celebrity?'_

'Sure.' Sam said with an attempt at a nonchalant shrug, 'You know her?'

Brittany nodded eagerly and started to steam the milk for his coffee, the steam rising about her face making her look flushed and bright eyed.

'Yeah, San and I are really good friends. We went to high school together. Me, Santana and M…'

_Mercedes! _Sam was _certain _that Brittany had been about to say 'Mercedes', but she'd stopped herself at the last minute, a forlorn expression on her usually upbeat features.

'So you guys are pretty close, huh?' Sam ignored the slip although inside he was clamoring to ask her about it. If Brittany _was _involved in Mercedes disappearance then he didn't want to draw attention to himself and risk Mercedes' safety.

'We are!' Brittany shook the glum look off her face and turned back to him with a bright smile. 'She's like, my best friend.'

Sam smiled back, 'That sounds awesome.' He felt the muscles in his legs start to spasm with nervous energy as he cautiously continued.

'Oh hey, then you must have heard about Santana's roommate, right? Isn't it awful?'

Brittany's face fell again, her big blue eyes downcast as she remembered.

'Yeah, It's so sad. I really hope she's ok. San and I love Mercedes, even if San has been grumpy towards her for the past few weeks.'

Despite his efforts to seem casual, Sam's eyes flicked to the blonde barista's eyes like a ricochet at her words. _Santana had been grumpy towards Mercedes in the weeks prior to her disappearance? That was something Santana herself had failed to mention._

'Isn't Santana kinda grumpy all the time?' Sam asked with an attempt at humour, thankfully Brittany laughed.

'Yeah, she's kind of a grump-a-lump,' she agreed, 'but no, she was worse than usual for a while before… _you know.'_

Sam nodded, he did know, he just wished that he didn't.

'How come?' Sam fiddled with the packets of sugar and creamer near the counter as Brittany poured his drink into a takeaway cup and carefully fit a plastic travel cap on top. 'Boy trouble?'

Brittany laughed and fumbled a little with the cup as she slid it towards him.

'No. San doesn't… I mean,' she corrected herself, 'I think Santana told Mercedes something private, like a secret, and then regretted it. Mercedes wouldn't tell or anything, but Santana is a very private person. She gets kinda angry at you if you get too close.'

'Oh.' Sam tried to process all this information as he accepted his coffee, but it was useless, he'd have to think it over properly when he had a quiet moment.

He smiled and waved a goodbye to Brittany as he exited the coffee shop, stealing a surreptitious glance over his shoulder at the blonde as he left. She was humming happily to herself as she wiped down the machines, not looking like a concerned kidnapper/murderer at all. Sam rounded the corner and got back into his truck, sipping absentmindedly at his still too-hot coffee as he thought and wincing as the hot liquid burned his tongue.

_So Santana had told Mercedes a secret that she'd come to regret and they'd been on the outs for a while before Mercedes' disappearance. Santana had failed to mention this fact to anyone, and he'd caught her deleting files from Mercedes' computer. Then Santana had snuck out for a secret rendezvous with Brittany, the bubbly barista and promised that she would remove someone from her life it was necessary._

Sam frowned and took another sip of his cooled coffee. _What was Santana hiding? Did it have anything to do with Quinn?_ At this point it was beginning to seem like _everyone_ Sam spoke to had a motive, and as always, where the _hell _was Mercedes?

Sam drove to his mall job on autopilot and wasn't much better while he worked. He was on autopilot as he cleared trays, wiped down tables and emptied bins while his mind tried to piece together scenarios based on the limited information that he had managed to gather. By the end of his shift Sam was beyond frustrated, nothing was making any sense. He didn't think Brittany was capable of doing anything to Mercedes, but then, why had Santana been meeting her in secret? Sam had an hour to kill before he was due to pick up the kids, and on an impulse Sam flipped his indicator on and pulled into the lane that would take him to Mercedes' apartment. Maybe it was time to talk to Santana again.

The woman did not look happy when she answered the door and saw him standing there, and she crossed her arms as she leaned through the doorway to see if anyone was watching them.

'You know,' she complained, 'if you keep turning up on my doorstep people are going to think we're friends. And I don't think I want to be friends with you, _John-Bob_. You smell like disinfectant and dogged optimism.'

Sam shook his head and shrugged against the insult. 'I was hoping I could check something in Mercy's room. Please?' he put on his best Puss in Boots face until Santana sighed and dragged him through the door by his shirt front.

'You know where it is.' She told him as she released him and shut the door. Flinging an arm in the direction of Mercedes room, 'The same rules apply.' Santana added with narrowed eyes as Sam made his way down the hall.

Of course, Sam didn't really need to check Mercy's room, it was Santana he needed to study, so he kept up a train of small talk as he pretended to search through Mercedes stuff. He briefly thought how the old Mercy would have been mortified to know he'd been through her stuff. He hoped she'd forgive him if he managed to find her alive.

'So, I ran into a friend of yours today.' Sam began, trying to keep his voice light and casual as he called out to Santana in another room.

'Oh God, are we trying to make conversation now?' Santana complained loudly, and Sam heard a smack as she dropped whatever it was that she'd been doing on the table.

'Fine.' She came and leaned on the doorway, watching him as he pretended to search Mercy's wardrobe. 'I'll bite. Who did you meet, _Dick Tracy?_'

'Brittany.' Sam kept his hands moving on the hangers in the closet but his eyes were on Santana, watching for any changes in her body language. She'd tensed up at the name, her shoulders rising slightly as she adjusted her folded arms across her chest.

'I'm not sure I know a Brittany.' Santana hedged, her gaze landing on everything but him.

'You sure?' Sam was careful not to sound accusatory, 'She sure seemed to know you. She said y'all went to school together.'

Santana seemed relieved as she sagged against Mercedes desk, moving to the swiveling desk chair and sitting down.

'Oh, yeah.' Santana began to swing slightly from side to side on the chair as she answered, 'Now you mention it, I do remember going to school with a Brittany.'

One of them was lying, and even though Sam's money was on Santana, he was going to pretend it was Brittany and hope that Santana might loosen up if she didn't think the heat was on her.

'Wait, you don't know her that well?'

'No.'

Sam stilled his hands on the clothing rail and turned to properly face Santana, concern carefully placed on his features.

'That's really weird, Santana. She was talking about how you and she were really great friends. She called you her _best _friend.' Sam frowned, 'In fact, she said you were _all _close. You, her… _and Mercedes._'

He widened his eyes as if he were having a revelation before he marched over and grabbed Mercedes cordless phone.

'We have to call the police, Santana. This girl is obviously delusional and she knew Mercedes! What if she snapped?'

The colour had drained out of Santana's face and she looked stricken as she shook her head.

'No! Sam, that's not… I actually remember her a little better now, we were fairly close in high school now I think about it. I just forgot.'

Sam raised an eyebrow, the phone clutched in his hand.

'Santana,' he said quietly, attempting to sound reassuring, 'I get it, you don't want to get the girl in trouble, but if she knows something about Mercy…'

'She doesn't.'

'We can't know that, Santana. I'm going to call the police.'

'_Damn_, Trouty Mouth, can't you just _let it go_?'

Sam stared at her, not having to fake his shock this time as his mouth hung limply open.

'How can you ask me that?' he demanded of the slender brunette in front of him, his voice deceptively quiet.

'How could you even _suggest _that I 'let it go' if it could help find Mercy? _You _are the one who told me that this girl is not your friend, which means that this girl _is _deluded and she _knows Mercedes. _I'm not taking any chances.' Sam lifted the phone in his hand and started to dial the number for the police station. He was about halfway through when Santana's brown hand covered his and halted his progress.

'I lied.'

Sam took a deep breath but didn't erase the half dialed number on the phone's digital display. If Santana was involved with Mercedes disappearance then he might have to dial sooner rather than later.

Green eyes met brown as Sam gave her a look to acknowledge that he was listening, but didn't speak or release his grip on the phone. Santana sighed and led him by the hand she still covered with her own to sit on Mercedes' bed.

'I _do _know Brittany.' Santana admitted after a moment of silence. 'And she had nothing to do with Mercy's disappearance, I can promise you that.'

'_How?' _Sam remained unconvinced as he studied the woman next to him. Usually confident, Santana was wringing her hands in her lap and shifting her weight, unable to keep still.

'I _know _Brittany,' Santana told him, her eyes pressing the importance of the words. 'She wouldn't hurt anyone, she wouldn't even know how. Brittany still believes in unicorns.'

'And yet you pretended not to know her.' Sam pointed out and Santana nodded sadly.

'I know, that wasn't my finest moment. She'd be upset if she knew.' The woman added quietly.

'So why did you?' Sam asked, 'Are you sure you're not trying to fool yourself into believing she's not involved.'

'No.' Santana shot back firmly, 'I'm _not._'

Sam took a deep breath and considered his next move. Should he show his hand and let Santana see his hand? Sam surreptitiously filled in the rest of the numbers for the police station phone number and held the phone by his side, his finger ready to hit the dial button if his plan backfired.

'Maybe you're in it together.' Sam suggested carefully, his eyes not leaving Santana's face. 'Did you and Brittany do something to Mercedes, Santana?'

Santana looked at him with a mix of disbelief, disgust and confusion in her eyes as she answered.

'_No. _We did _not. _Neither of us would want to hurt Mercedes, and out of the two of us, _Cavern Face_, only _one _of us was out looking for her when she went missing.'

That stung, but Sam was prepared for it.

'I saw you.'

Santana just stared at him in bewilderment until he elaborated, 'I saw you sneaking off to meet with Brittany, Santana. I heard you saying something about removing a woman from your life.'

Sam stood up, putting some distance between him and Santana so that he was closest to the door should he have to make a run for it. He figured he could take Santana if he had to (although he really, _really _hoped he didn't, even if she had taken Mercy.) but this was her apartment, and she knew it better than he did.

'Was it Mercedes, Santana?' he probed, walking backwards to keep his eye on her as he edged towards the door. 'Brittany said you told her something you regretted. Did you take her to keep your secret?'

Santana watched the tall blond boy edge towards the door from her position sitting stationary on the bed. Her eyes wide in fascination as he spoke, when he was done she posed her own question, her voice rising as she continued to stare him down.

'First of all, what were you following us around you sick pervert? Second,' she said, rising to her feet and taking a small step towards him, 'Mercedes is my best friend, if I was going to kidnap or murder anyone it wouldn't be her. Trust me, she's one of the few people I actually like in this town. And thirdly, you and I _both _know that if there's anyone and I mean _anyone _in this god-forsaken little dumbass backwards town that can keep a secret it's _Mercedes_. I wouldn't _need _to take her to make sure she kept it. All I'd have to do is ask her to, which, by the way, I _did._'

They were toe to toe now, and though Sam was standing his ground, he was beginning to wish he were _anywhere _but here as Santana fixed furious eyes on him.

'I did follow you.' Sam admitted, 'not because I'm a pervert, but because I'm a guy who's trying to find his best friend. If you're as innocent as you say you are, then sorry, no harm meant and all that. But I _know _you're hiding something, Miss. Lopez, and if it's Mercy then I _will _find out.'

Santana appraised him for a moment before she took a step back, widening the space between them once again.

'You really came all the way here to confront me, _just in case_ I had Mercedes stashed away in a closet somewhere?' she questioned, making her way back over to the bed and dropping down on it, bouncing a few times from the force.

When Sam gave a curt nod she shot him an unexpected, genuine smile.

'I don't know if you think I'm an idiot or if you are, but, _Dinghy Lips_, you aren't fooling anybody.'

Sam's confusion must have shown on his face, because Santana continued.

'Mercy isn't "your best friend".' She added, making the quotes with her fingers. When he tried to protest Santana cut him off with an indulgent smirk.

'She's not.' she pressed. '_She's the woman you're in love with._'

They were frozen in silence for a moment, Sam standing unmoving by the door with the phone still grasped in a death grip in his hand, while Santana sat on the bed, her arms folded across her chest as she regarded him.

'How would you know?' Sam asked after a second. It probably wasn't the best comeback in the world, but it was the only question that had made it through his dulled thoughts to his lips. Santana smiled sadly at him, her brown eyes forlorn as she shrugged and focused her attention on the gold tennis bracelet she was wearing, she fiddled with its charms for a moment before she looked up and answered his question.

'I know because I'm in love too.' She took a slow, deep drag of air and added, 'with Brittany.'

Sam studied Santana's face, trying to see if she were lying.

'You should know better than anyone how crappy this town can be to you if you're a little bit different.' Santana explained cautiously. 'You're not even _that _annoying and yet people around here treat you like you're the devil incarnate. I have to sneak out to see Brittany because life would be hell for us if we were public. Maybe I could handle it, but Britt's innocent, you know? People would try to break her spirit.'

That was the moment that Sam knew that Santana was telling the truth. He'd never heard her speak that tenderly about anyone, and the goofy smile she got whenever she spoke about Brittany was so dopey he was sure she'd have found a way to stop herself doing it if she'd realized.

'So the secret you told Mercedes…'

'Was that I'm gay.' Santana confirmed, 'She's known Britt and I since high school, and I think she's always had her suspicions, but she never treated either of us differently. I knew that she'd be supportive.'

Sam nodded, fitting her answer into the map of unanswered questions that still loomed large in his brain.

Santana let out a deep sigh, obviously predicting one of the many questions he wanted to ask.

'I told you because I knew I could. Mercedes would talk about you a lot, and she was… **_is_,' **she corrected, 'a pretty good judge of character. Then I met you and… I dunno, I just felt like I could tell you. You give off this trustworthy, Boy Scout vibe which, ordinarily I would find gag-worthy, but is actually kinda comforting. Besides, I know you know what it feels like to be ostracised, I just can't see you deliberately doing that to anyone else.'

'I_ wouldn't_.' Sam assured her quickly. 'No one can help who they love, and honestly, it's none of my business unless, you know, the person being loved is me. Which it _obviously_ isn't, so...' Sam shut his mouth with a soft snap to keep himself from saying anything else. He was babbling, and he was terrified that he was going to say... or was already _saying..._ the wrong thing. It was all so sensitive and the last thing he wanted to be was be a jerk about it, so he waited a moment for the dust to settle before he diverted the conversation back to his investigation.

'Brittany said you were upset with Mercy for a few weeks before she… _you know._' He prompted and Santana nodded.

'Yeah, I was, but not for the reasons Britt thinks.' She started, then stopped and looked pointedly at the phone still clutched in Sam's hand and his awkward position hovering by the door.

'Will you come sit down now?' she demanded, her head tilted to one side as she regarded him. 'I think we've established that I'm not going to kill you, and looking up at your tall ass is making my neck sore.'

Sam hesitated, but eventually sat down next to Santana on Mercedes' bed.

'Mercedes was the first person I came out to. Britt already knew because we just kind of… fell into the truth, you know? We started off making out at parties, things like that, you know, trying to turn the boys on.' she gave a small shrug, her eyes fixed on Mercedes' purple carpet. 'But then, after a while we started doing it when there wasn't anyone to watch us. That was when I realized that I _liked _it, and I liked it more than I liked it with boys.

'I tried to be straight, for a while, I kept telling myself that it was a fluke, that I wasn't _actually_ noticing the girls instead of the guys. I tried to kid myself into feeling something while I fucked my way through half the boys at school. I thought that maybe if I did it with enough guys it would stick... but it didn't. Britt stuck by me through all of it, and I was _not_ a nice person back then.' She caught Sam's slight raise of his eyebrows and gave a soft, allowing laugh. 'Ok, so I was _worse _then.' she admitted. 'I hated myself, I hated everyone else…The only people I could really stand were Mercy and Britt, and after a while I realized that the feelings I had for Britt were… bigger than I thought.'

Santana seemed lost in her own world as she recounted her story, but Sam didn't dare interrupt her. He could sense that this was an important moment for her, and even though he was terrified he'd say or do the wrong thing, he was honoured that she had trusted him with this knowledge - Even if he didn't know why she'd chosen to do so.

'I actually told Mercedes about three months ago. She gave me a hug, thanked me for telling her, kissed me on the cheek and then asked to borrow some shoes. Mercy's support helped me get to the point where I could tell her, and I knew nothing had changed after I had. She was there for me then, and she'd be there for me now.' Santana's jaw clenched, 'she'd _still _be here if some asswipe hadn't stolen her.' She spat before she collected herself.

'I was grumpy for the few weeks before she went missing because I'd made the decision to come out to my parents.'

Santana looked so vulnerable that Sam instinctively put a comforting hand on her back, and was shocked when she didn't shake it off.

'They didn't take it well?' he asked gently, and then wanted to kick himself for saying anything at all.

'I never told them.' Santana corrected. 'I kept deciding to, and then backing out. I was mad at _everything_, but mostly at myself. Britt is actually the only person I _wasn't _taking it out on. I guess she noticed when we were all together and thought I was mad with Merce.'

The pieces all seemed to fit together, which was good, Sam guessed, he didn't _want _Santana to have been behind all this, but it also meant that he'd just lost his strongest lead.

'And the person you threatened to cut out of your life?'

'Well, aren't you the detective.' Santana leaned back, her eyes raking over him from head to toe as she appraised him.  
>'My Abuela.' she admitted finally, sighing as she lifted her thick, dark hair off her neck and let it fall over one shoulder. 'She practically raised me, and I don't think she's going to take the news of my sexuality well.'<p>

Sam looked sympathetic, but Santana's next words cut him off before he had a chance to speak.

'I love her, but if she doesn't accept us then it's her loss.' The brunette said bitterly, sounding like she was trying to convince _herself_ more than Sam, 'I meant what I said to Brittany. I won't like it, but if I have to cut her out of our lives then I will. I won't let her make me feel ashamed of who I am, no matter _how_ much I love her.'

Sam didn't know what to say, so he swallowed as Santana stared down at her feet. He thought about responding to what she'd said, of offering support in some way, but something told him that Santana wouldn't thank him for it. Besides, it really wasn't his place.

'What about those emails you deleted?' Sam questioned after a moment, although at this stage he could probably guess what Santana was going to say.

'You caught that, huh?' Sam nodded, 'They were emails to Merce about Britt... about my _parents_... I just didn't want that stuff to find its way out there unless _I _put it out there, you know.'

They were silent for a long moment, but something had shifted between them and the silence they shared now was companionable rather than tense.

'I'm sorry.' Sam said quietly, and Santana turned her brown-eyed glare on him, she was poised to jump down his throat for whatever he said next, but Sam could now recognise the action for what it was, Santana had let him in and now she was going to try to push him away again. Just like Brittany had said. 'For accusing you of hurting Mercedes.' he clarified.

Santana shrugged, but he sensed that she wasn't as annoyed as she was pretending to be.

'It's cool. I mean, it's good to know that Aretha has someone at her back, ready to ask the hard questions.'

Sam nodded, biting his lip as he went to make his more important apology.

'And I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured into coming out to me.'

Santana scoffed loudly, a noise that startled Sam from his somber apology.

'Get over yourself, _Helmet Hair_!' Santana demanded incredulously, staring him down with absolutely no hint of pretense whatsoever. 'You did jack _shit. _I came out to you because I _wanted_ to.' She shook her head, her arms folded across her chest as she stood up to face him. 'No, but, honestly. Was that seriously your idea of pressure?' she let out a little amused laugh, looking at him like he was a three year old who had just done something cute. 'I'm from Lima Heights _Adjacent_, _hombre._ We use more pressure to scratch off a lotto card.'

Sam wasn't entirely sure how to take that, so he just said, 'Either way, thank you for sharing it with me.' and then shut up.

Santana looked momentarily taken aback, but a tender look crossed her face as she shrugged and mumbled, 'Whatever.'

'So what now?' Sam asked after they'd sat for a while in companionable silence.

'Now we go back to searching for Mercedes.' Santana answered decidedly, and he didn't miss her use of pronoun.

'_We?' _

Santana gave him the stink eye.

'What? You didn't think I was just going to wave you off with a handkerchief clutched to my chest, while you went off and looked for Mercedes on your own did you? _Screw _that noise. I want Mercedes home just as much as you do.'

The fiery woman stared Sam down - not like she had done in the past, where she'd make Sam feel like some kind of gross bug trapped under a glass - but curiously, honestly, as if she were taking his stock as a person and deciding that she might_ actually_ want to associate with.

'You know, I actually think you've been doing a pretty good job so far.' she said finally, her features softening as she looked away.

It was probably the first genuinely nice thing Santana had ever said to him, and Sam appreciated it with a small smile, filing it away under 'rare sightings' in his head as she continued.

'But two heads are better than one.' Santana shrugged, 'Besides, people in this town actually _like _me.'

Sam raised an eyebrow and she smacked him with a pillow. 'Ok, so they like me better than _you.' _She corrected with a laugh, her smile gradually leaving her face as she turned serious.

'I mean it, though. I want to help you find Mercedes.'

Sam eyed her warily as he weighed out the pros and cons of her offer. Having Santana on his side would definitely be a plus, and she was right, they would stand a better chance of finding Mercedes together, but the question was _really_ if he could trust her.

Sam had always gotten a weird vibe from Santana, he'd not felt at ease around her before, and it wasn't just because of her attitude. Something about the woman had always seemed dishonest, but as Sam studied her now he realized that that feeling had gone. The vibe he got from her now was still biting and temperamental, but _not _dishonest. He prayed fervently that he could trust his hunch as he held out his hand, his decision made.

'Welcome aboard.'

'Why am I at a bar? Sam asked over the music as Brittany and Santana nestled into a booth across from him. He'd been instructed to meet them at the same place he'd tailed them to a couple of nights earlier, but Santana had refused to tell him why over the phone.

'Because,' she told him now, 'You've met _me, _and you've met _Britt, _but you haven't met us _together._'

'Oh.' Sam nodded, although he still didn't understand why they had to be at a _bar _for that.

'And I wanted to let you know I want to help find Mercedes too.' Brittany volunteered, which made Santana turn and beam at her, leaning in close to give her an affectionate kiss.

'Besides,' Santana turned back to Sam with a smirk, 'I don't get to show off ma Britts very often, so just so you know, I'm planning to milk this for all it's worth.'

Sam laughed as Brittany threw her arms around her girlfriend in an exaggerated hug.

'You are the _sweetest_!'

'_Sweet_' wasn't exactly the word Sam would have chosen to describe Santana, but judging by the gooey look on the brunette's face as Brittany hugged her he wouldn't be surprised if that was _exactly _who she was behind closed doors.

'So what do we have so far?' Santana asked, extracting herself from Brittany's arms just as Sam was beginning to feel like a third wheel. 'Do you have any leads?' Sam leaned forward in his chair to lay out what he knew for them, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out the best place to start.

'_Ok_... _so_... so far we know that Mercy was in trouble with _someone - _not sure who and not sure what for - and that as far as anyone knows I was the last person to see her, other than whoever took her of course.' Sam stopped and took a deep breath, trying not to let the crippling wave of _what ifs_ drag him under again. 'I left her by the river at maybe 10 - _10.15?' _he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. 'She was alone, but she was fine when I left, but by the next morning she was gone. We also know that she left a bunch of clues behind in case something happened to her, and she had time to do that, so whatever she was involved in had to be going on for a while.' Sam took a second to get his bearings before he went on. 'We also have these codes.'

He pulled out his phone to show Brittany and Santana the codes that he'd copied from the note he'd found, he'd tried taking a picture, but the most basic of all camera's on his phone hadn't been able to get all the information in without blurring, so he'd resorted to just copying them down into a note on his phone instead.

'These mean anything to either of you?'

Santana scrutinized the numbers for a long moment, squinting at the display on his cheap phone before she shook her head and handed the handset to Brittany. After a moment, Brittany also shook her head and handed the phone back to Sam.

'Sorry.' The blonde gave a small shrug of apology as Sam pocketed the phone.

'Ok.' Sam breathed a disappointed sigh and went back to relaying what he knew.

'I also spoke to a girl Mercy worked with at the library who I'm pretty certain is hiding something.'

Sam rubbed his forehead, wishing he had more to recount than that. It didn't sound like much at all now he was laying it out for other people.

'I'm going to go talk to Quinn again soon, see if I can get any more information from her, what?'

Brittany and Santana had exchanged a look while he'd been talking and he could tell from the looks on their faces that something he'd said had triggered something.

'Um, is Quinn a really pretty blonde girl?' Brittany asked tentatively and Sam nodded.

'We _know _her.' Santana sat a little straighter in her seat and rested her hands on her jean-clad knees.

'Mercy brought her here a few times.' She explained, scooting her body forward on the hard leather seat as she rushed to fill Sam in on what she knew.

'Mercedes had mentioned her a few times, just over drinks you know.' Santana gave a dismissive shrug and continued, 'Quinn's from one of those uber strict religious families, but Mercedes was, like, adamant that Quinn had this rebellious streak that she needed to satisfy before she went nuts. So one day Britt and I were just like, 'Bring her', you know, because, I mean, who's even gonna judge her here?'

Santana looked around the bar. She was right, Sam allowed, no one so much as batted an eyelid at him _or _at Santana and Brittany's PDA. It was probably as safe a haven as you could _get_ in Lima.

'So, Mercedes brings her, and at first she seemed kinda straight-laced and pure and stuff, but as soon as she had a few drinks and let her hair down she fit right in.'

To her side, Brittany nodded her agreement to Santana's assessment.

'She was actually kinda fun.' The barista told Sam, her hand finding its way over to link with Santana's on her knee.

'Exactly,' Santana gave Brittany's hand a small squeeze and she carried on. 'Quinn came out with us a few more times, after that, not _every_ time, but we saw her on, like, on a semi-regular basis. Only, the last time was a while ago, like maybe…' she thought for moment, brown eyes scanning the ceiling as she worked out the math in her head. 'Three months ago?'

Santana looked to Brittany for confirmation and the blonde nodded.

'She hooked up with a guy she met here the last time,' Brittany explained, 'and then she didn't come back again.'

Brittany sighed and looked sad, 'we asked Mercy to find out what happened, but she just came back and said that Quinn was 'dealing with some stuff' and wouldn't be coming out with us again for a while.'

'We tried to press her for more information,' Santana cut in, 'but that's all 'Cedes would say, she was, like, _completely _tight-lipped about the whole thing. It was weird.'

Sam frowned as the women finished talking, trying to combine this new information with what he already knew about Quinn. It still didn't help him much, but it was certainly intriguing.

'And you guys didn't see Quinn again at all after that?' he questioned, his eyes bright on the faces in front of him.

'No.' Santana shook her head but Brittany nodded.

'I saw her once after,' she explained, Sam and Santana's full attention trained on her. 'From a distance. I waved, but she just put her head down and pretended not to see me. It made me sad.'

Sam reached out a hand to pat Brittany sympathetically on the arm and she looked up at him with a grateful smile.

'I don't know what any of that means yet.' Sam admitted, his eyes staring unseeing at the table in front of him as he dropped his hand from Brittany's shoulder to clasp them both together in front of him as he thought. 'But I'm sure it means _something_.'

The trio sat in silence for a few minutes, taking small sips from their long neglected drinks as they took a moment to deal with their own thoughts.

'Wait.'

Santana spoke just as Sam had taken a big gulp of his orange juice and he stopped for a moment with his cheeks comically puffed out with the liquid before he swallowed, lowering his glass as he waited expectantly for Santana's revelation.

'You said you were following clues.' Sam nodded once as the Latina bit her lip, speaking slowly as the thought forced its way out of her mouth.

'So, _where _were you getting these clues from?' Santana questioned, her eyes narrowing at Sam as she waited for him to explain himself.

Sam sighed, for some reason he'd hoped that he could keep the people who knew about Mercy's comic to a minimum. He really didn't want it falling into the wrong hands or getting destroyed, it was literally his one lifeline to Mercedes Jones and he would be damned if anything happened to it. Yet, Santana and Brittany were on his side, and if he was going to trust them with helping to look for Mercy then he would have to trust them with this too.

Sam sighed and pulled the comic out of the inside pocket of his jacket and, after using a napkin to make sure the table was dry, he laid it out in front of him and turned it around to face Brittany and Santana.

'From this.'

Santana eyed it dubiously while Brittany just looked delighted.

'One of those little comic things Mercy was always drawing?' Santana reached down to flip through some of the pages. 'Are you sure there are clues in here?'

'Positive.' Sam said with a decisive nod as he watched Santana and Brittany's faces for any spark of recognition.

'Actually, you could look through it and tell me if there's anything that you've seen before.' He suggested, taking another swig of orange juice to calm his sudden bout of nerves. 'Let me know if anything looks familiar.'

Santana and Brittany both nodded briefly at him before they turned their attention to the book on the table, taking turns to slowly turn the pages as they studied each drawing.

It was beginning to look like an exercise in futility when Brittany's hand reached out to still Santana's mid page turn.

'Stop. Go back.'

Santana's brow furrowed but she dutifully turned back to the previous page, her eyes locked on the face of the blond next to her as she studied the page.

'We know him.'

Brittany lowered her index finger to point at an illustration of a mean looking guy wearing a vest and a tattoo. He wasn't doing anything except leering in the frame, but Mercedes hadn't been kind in her depiction of him, it wouldn't have looked at all out of place if she'd drawn in horns.

'Britt…' Santana studied the picture with growing confusion. 'I've never seen that guy before.'

'_No._' her girlfriend insisted, raising a hand to cover the guy's face so that only his torso and the tattoo on his upper left arm were visible. 'Ignore his face,' Brittany commanded, 'look at the _tattoo.' _

Santana blinked at the picture for a few seconds longer, and then realization dawned over her face like a lightbulb being switched on.

'Oh my gosh, we _know _him.' Santana agreed, spinning the comic around to show Sam and tapping her finger above the guy in question.

Sam shook his head, unable to follow the half-unspoken conversation going on between the two women.

'Who is he?' he picked the comic up to scrutinize it closer, but had to admit that he had no idea who the man in the picture was.

Santana's finger continued to hover over the picture, but her eyes were glued to Sam's face as she spoke.

'That's the guy Quinn left with that night.'

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><p><strong>AN: **You guys, I am _so _sorry for leaving you all hanging on this story for so long. Thank you for sticking around if you're reading this, and let me say that I'm sincerely hoping that there won't be as long a wait for the next chapter as there was for this one. I got about halfway through writing it and got hit with complete writers block, plus I got so worried about writing certain parts of this chapter that I _really_ struggled with it. Now it's out there and I'm just praying that it's ok. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and weren't disappointed. *Runs away to hide*


	4. Second Hand News

**A/N: I am SO SORRY! If you're still reading this then bless you and everything you love. I'm horrified it's taken me this long to update, truly, but there's nothing else for me to say other than, i'm sorry, and here's the next chapter. Please don't hate me!**

* * *

><p>Sam was having a crappy day. No, worse than crappy, he corrected himself, <em>horrendous. Abysmal.<em>

The family car had broken down, which meant that both his parents were late for work that morning which meant they'd had to take cabs in to work, not to mention the fact that he had no idea how much the repairs were going to cost. Sam ran a frustrated hand through his hair, the whole thing was going to cost them way more than his family could afford right now.

He felt like he'd run into a dead end where Mercy was concerned and to top it all off the mechanic who was fixing his car kept shooting Sam venomous looks from underneath the car's hood.

Sam was nearing the edge of his tether before another look from the mechanic pushed him over the edge and he saw red.

'Alright, you know what. _What_?!' Sam exploded, and the dark haired mechanic straightened and fixed him with an unapologetic glare.

'What is your problem with me?' Sam demanded, 'You've been shooting me death glares since I got here!'

The mechanic looked Sam up and down like he was something slimy on the bottom of the man's shoe before he leaned back against the Evans car and folded his arms across his chest.

'You might think you got away with it, but people talk, you know.'

Sam shot him a '_what the hell?' _look that only seemed to piss the other man off even more.

'You did something to Mercedes!' he barked, throwing the wrench he was holding into a nearby tool tray with such force that it landed with a loud clang and caused the tray to skitter across the bench.

'The whole town knows it!

Sam reeled back at the accusation and the mechanic let out a mocking laugh, his face twisting into an ugly mask of contempt.

'You know, if it were up to me I wouldn't touch your car. But the boss says I have to. Believe me if I had it my way I wouldn't even piss on you if you were on fire.'

Sam blanched, but the mechanic went on regardless.

'You know, I _told _her you had a bad reputation. I _warned her, _told her to stay away from you, but she just laughed and said that reports of you had been wildly exaggerated.'

A look of sadness crept onto the man's face only to be quickly replaced by a fiery anger.

'I guess you proved her wrong, didn't you?'

Sam felt the words hit him like a blow to the gut. _Was this really what everyone was thinking about him?_ Sam wondered,_ he didn't think he'd given them any cause to believe him capable of that, but this mechanic, _Sam peered at the name on his accuser's overalls, _Hummel-Hudson, had already condemned him, and apparently he wasn't the only one. _Sam's eyes narrowed in concentration as he thought, _Hummel-Hudson… there was something about that name, _Sam remembered, trying desperately to catch the wisp of a recollection that had flittered through his brain.

'Hummel-Hudson…' Sam said out loud as he remembered, 'Mercy told me about you.' Sam nodded as some of the other man's bravado seemed to leave him.

'That's right, you two went to high school together, didn't you? You were the high school star athlete who wanted to be 'secret friends' with Mercedes.'

Sam made the quote marks with his fingers in the air and watched as the colour drained out of Hummel-Hudson's face.

'You want to talk about guys she shouldn't be friends with? How about the one who was so worried about his popularity and social status that he refused to be seen in public with her? What about the guy who told her she was his best friend one day and then completely ignored her the next, huh? What was she to you, Hummel-Hudson? A game? A bit of sport? A failed attempt to get into her pants?'

Sam's voice had risen with every sentence and he was yelling by the end, finishing toe to toe with the over-opinionated grease monkey.

Hummel-Hudson seethed, his eyes shooting daggers at Sam until he took a deep breath and took a step back from Sam.

'Fuck you.'

Sam had been gearing up for a big fight, so he was surprised when the Double H had taken a step back and spoken in that tone of quiet acquiescence. His eyes followed the mechanic warily as he walked out the door and flopped on the curb, turning expectantly when Sam didn't immediately follow him.

'Sit.' The brunette gestured next to him and Sam warily sat down next to him. They were silent for a while before the mechanic started talking, so quiet that Sam had to strain to hear him.

'Mercedes was the only one who knew I was gay.'

Sam couldn't think of the correct response to that so he just kept quiet and waited for Hummel-Hudson to finish his story.

'I didn't accept that I was gay until junior year of high school. By then I was already on the football team, and Coach was already talking about football scholarships and I knew that that could all go to crap if I came out. Maybe it would have been different if I'd been a nobody you know, but I was so popular. I didn't even choose it, but you know what they say, the higher you climb the harder you fall.'

Hummel-Hudson brushed a hand over his hair and stared at an oil spot on the ground as he continued in a faraway sounding voice.

'I don't even know why I told Mercedes. We weren't that close, but she started tutoring me in English around the same time I started figuring all this out and I just wanted to tell _somebody. _We were sitting in my living room talking about Basil Hallward in _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ and I remember Mercedes' said that he was the only character she liked in the whole book. I asked her why and she said that she thought Basil was in love with Dorian. He didn't actually do anything wrong, he just fell in love with someone who wasn't worthy of it.'

He shook his head,

'She didn't say it like it was bad or wrong, like everyone else I'd heard talk about that kind of thing did. Mercedes just talked about a guy loving another guy like it was _normal. _She made _me _feel normal, and that wasn't something I'd felt for a long time.'

Hummel-Hudson sighed,

'So I just opened my mouth and told her, 'I think I'm gay.' I'd never said it before. Never spoken the words out loud, I mean. I remember she was silent for a second, and then she leaned over and covered my hand with hers,'

The mechanic lifted his hand like he could still feel Mercedes' hand on his.

', and said 'I'm glad you told me.' I must have looked at her like she was crazy; I couldn't believe she wasn't treating me any differently. It wasn't like she didn't care, but it wasn't like it was a game changer or anything, she just let me be.

'I really appreciated that.'

The man turned to look at Sam, focusing on him for the first time since he'd started talking.

'I know you think that I didn't want people to know about my friendship with Mercedes, but that's not true. I didn't want people to ruin it, to make it into something it wasn't.'

'How did you know that would have happened?' Sam asked gently and Double H let out a bark of mirthless laughter.

'Because it's exactly what they're doing to you now.'

Sam sighed. He wanted to be able to say that that wasn't the case, but he couldn't. Sam knew from experience how vocal the status quo could get when it came up against things it didn't like. He was willing to bet that homosexuality made an appearance on that list. The guy would have been crucified if people had found out the truth about him back then.

'That's rough, man.' Sam said eventually, not knowing what else to say.

'Yeah,' the mechanic agreed, climbing to his feet and offering Sam a hand to pull him up.

'So, how long have you been in love with Mercedes?' he asked as he led the way back into the garage.

'What?!' Sam wondered frantically how the _hell _this guy who, less than an hour ago had believed that Sam had killed Mercy had managed to figure out one of his most closely guarded secrets.

Double H took in Sam's expression and scoffed, 'Please! It's written all over your face when you talk about her.' He supplied, 'It's practically seeping out your pores.'

'I-' Sam began, and then let his mouth snap shut, not sure what else to say, and not entirely sure he wanted to deny it.

'I know she's not dead.' He finished finally, his eyes fixed on the bonnet of his family car.

'I don't know how I know, but I just do. I know she's out there somewhere, and if she is, then I have to find her.'

He looked up then, his eyes meeting Hummel-Hudson's blue gaze steadily.

'I _have_ to.'

To his surprise, the mechanic nodded, wiping his hands on a grease stained cloth at his hip before holding it out for Sam to shake.

'Kurt.'

Sam hesitated for a moment, and then clasped the other man's hand in his own.

'Sam.'

'Sorry about that stuff I said…' Kurt apologized after they'd shaken hands and he'd gone back to fixing the Evans' car. 'Everyone in town is saying that you killed her. I'm ashamed to say I bought into it.'

Sam nodded, annoyed, but growing used to hearing about the rumours being spread about him. He just had to believe that he'd find Mercy, and then the record would be set straight.

'So, what changed?' Sam asked after a moment, watching Kurt's hands deftly working in the car.

'I met you.' Kurt shrugged, straightening to wipe his forehead with a grubby hand. 'She always said you were better than this town,' he continued, reaching into the toolbox for the wrench. 'I didn't really believe her… although in hindsight, I should have.' He scoffed. 'It's funny the things you see after the fact, you know?' he asked dryly. 'Mercedes was best friend and confidant to so many people. So many of us loved her… but when she had something to confide, she never came to us.' Kurt realized. 'She went to you.'

He shook his head again.

'Why not trust the person who keeps the Secret Keeper's secrets? Not to mention, I should know better than anyone that this town is very often wrong about.' he sighed again. 'Sorry.'

Sam nodded his acknowledgement of the apology, not trusting himself to say anything. Kurt thought that he was Mercy's most trusted confidant… and maybe he was, but even so, Sam was beginning to learn that there was an awful lot about Mercy that he just didn'tknow. Including who'd taken her, and why Mercedes had been keeping so much from him.

When Kurt told him that the car repairs would take at least another hour, Sam decided that his time would probably be best spent following up on some of the last few remaining leads he had, starting with paying another visit to Quinn at the library.

Luckily, the library was only a few blocks away from the shop, so Sam walked it quickly and pushed open the door to the building, hoping belatedly that Quinn was working today.

'Finished already?' Quinn asked almost as soon as he stepped through the door, carrying the pile of books she was re-shelving over to the desk as she nodded at the book in Sam's hand. He'd spent a lot of time poring over it, but he was eventually convinced that the worn copy of _I Am Sam _didn't hold any further clues as to Mercedes' whereabouts.

'Uh, yep! All done.' Sam said as he slid the book onto the counter, flipping back the front cover to retrieve the list of numbers Mercedes had left inside before handing it over for Quinn to scan in.

'Do you want me to look up those books for you too?' Quinn asked once she'd turned back from putting the book on the re-shelving cart. She laughed when she caught sight of Sam's confused face and gestured to the list in his hand.

'Those are Dewey reference codes.' She explained gently, as she gestured to the paper in Sam's hand. 'Did you want me to look the books up for you?'

Sam's eyes widened, but he nodded, handing the paper over and watching as Quinn punched the numbers into the computer.

'There are a lot of books here.' She noted after a while. 'Do you want to write down the titles or something?'

'No,' Sam shook his head adamantly, still not trusting that solving Mercedes' puzzle could be that easy. 'I'll record it.' he said instead with a small shrug, 'it's easier.'

'Ok.' Quinn looked nonplussed and started reading off the titles on the screen, pausing intermittently to type in the next code. When she was finished, Sam shut off the recorder on his phone and slipped it into his pocket.

'Thanks.'

'No problem.' Quinn smiled, then her forehead crinkled as her face drained of colour. 'Sorry, I need to-' she interrupted herself mid-sentence by clapping a hand over her mouth and running out from behind the counter, leaving Sam looking after her in confusion.

Quinn came back about five minutes later, looking a little less pale and sipping a bottle of water that she'd got from somewhere. She moved to collect the books she'd left on the counter and jumped when Sam rose into her vision from where he'd been sitting on one of the comfy seats.

'Sorry!' Sam apologized, holding his palms out in front of him as Quinn clutched at her chest and fought to get her breathing back to normal. 'Sorry!' Sam said again, 'You rushed off so quickly, I just wanted to make sure you were ok.'

Quinn accepted the water that Sam had pressed into her hand again and sipped slowly, lowering the bottle a few moments later and waving a hand to fend off Sam's concern.

'I'm fine. I must have eaten something bad is all.'

Sam's brow furrowed, 'Do you need me to call someone for you? Can anyone cover?'

'No, no!' Quinn closed her eyes and waved her hand again. 'I'm fine. Really. It was nice of you to stay, but I'll be alright.'

Sam didn't look convinced, but Quinn straightened and shot him an assured smile. 'I'll be fine and it's quiet.' She allowed. 'Don't worry.'

Sam frowned but nodded. 'You sure?'

'Positive.'

'Ok…'

Quinn laughed, 'Wow, Mercedes wasn't kidding when she said that you're one of the good ones.' She said as she physically turned him around and gave him a gentle push away from the counter. 'I've never had someone I didn't know show this much concern over me.' Quinn told him, then paused, 'Well, other than Mercedes.' She shook her head. 'You two are like peas in a freakin' pod.'

Sam sighed; it felt like he was hearing that a lot lately.

'Alright, feel better, Quinn.' Sam acquiesced as he pushed open the door to the library, smiling when Quinn rolled her eyes playfully and shot him a wave in return.

'See you, Sam.'

Sam looked down at the list of titles he'd transcribed from the recording he'd made at the library, still not sure how any of them were supposed to help him. Did Mercedes expect him to read all of these books? Sam wondered, and then dismissed it. Mercedes knew about his dyslexia, and he was pretty sure that she wouldn't put him through all that.

He looked from the original list of numbers to his transcribed list again, comparing the two and trying to figure out what they meant. Some of the numbers had vertical lines drawn through them, Sam noted, but how did that coincide with the titles?

I'm Sorry by Sam McBratney and Jennifer Eachus

I Need to Tell You by Jo Costello

Secretly Do Good Deeds by Melody Carlson (line)

If They Only Knew by Chyna

They Would Never Hurt A Fly by Slavenka Drakulic (line)

Kill Shot by Vince Flynn (line)

Me and You by Anthony Browne

They've Killed The President! By Robert Sam Anson (line)

Before by Irini Spanidou

This is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper (line)

The Only Way by Ola Wegner

and

They're Watching by Gregg Hurwitz

Sam stared at the sheet for a minute longer, reading down the list of titles. The books were from completely different genres and seemed to have nothing in common, so the clue was probably somewhere in the titles… at first Sam hoped that there would be some repeated name that would tell him who had been after Mercedes, but after scanning through the list he realized that wasn't likely. After that Sam figured he could ignore the authors, which meant the clue was in the titles… if he supposed that the numbers with lines through them meant that he wasn't supposed to read the whole of the corresponding title, then… Sam quickly drew lines through the relevant titles and read down the list again. His blood ran cold as he read and reread the message he'd inadvertently written down.

'Sam,

I'm Sorry

I Need To Tell You

Secretly

If They Only Knew

They Would Kill

Me And You

They've Killed Before

This Is The Only Way

They're Watching.'

Sam sat back in his chair, his knuckles turning white as he clenched the paper in his hands. He read the words again, hoping he'd made a mistake even though deep down he knew that he hadn't. The message Mercedes had left him answered two of the questions that had bothered him the most: Why hadn't she told him before, and why the need for all the clues. Sam ran a hand through his hair as he expelled a long, shaky breath, it looked like now he had his answer, but it wasn't what he'd been hoping for. Not at all.

_Fuck._


End file.
